Babylon 5: Signs and Portents
by Grand Admiral Harmon
Summary: Part 2 of the B5 Alternative Universe. Ten years after the destruction of Earth, forces conspire. One side hopes to return the remnants of Humanity to power, the other side wishes to destroy it.
1. Icarus Lives

**Ten years has passed since the end of the Earth-Minbari War. The Earth Remnant struggles to build a life for itself within the confines of Centauri owned space. But for the Minbari, the war wasn't final enough and the survival of humanity is a moral error. And for some humans, not enough has been done, and they feel a change is needed to keep Humanity not only alive, but with power.**

**Chapter 1: Icarus Lives**

"Not again!" Jeffery Sinclair snarled as he was rudly awakened by the communications channel beeping at him from the wall in the living room. Insistently it continued to beep, until he flung the blanket off, and strode over towards the wall. He didn't even take the time to grab his robe he usually wore to address comms he recieved in middle of the night.

"Recieve transmission, audio only," he growled.

"Captain Sinclair," the voice of his second in command, Laura Takashima came through, "Sorry to disturb you sir."

"Whatever Laura," he grumped, "What is it this time?"

"We've captured the creature."

* * *

><p>Sinclair looked at the creature, standing chained to the other wall. Behind him, like so many other cells on the station for the most violent of criminals, was an air-lock, that if need be would suck him out into space. The creature had already killed seven men from security and thirty-five from Down Below, the name they had given Brown Sector.<p>

The creature was armored in black bio-armor. The stations doctor, Doctor Kyle, had been unable to determine anything about it, besides an almost symbotic relationship between the armor and the host. But, for all intents and purposes, it looked incredible tough. They had been unable to harm it with PPGs, so they had super freezed a room and pretty much froze him into submission.

Now Sinclair looked at him from the opposite side of glass, watching as he tried to jerk free from his restraints. His weapon that he had grafted onto his body had been sawn off, and blood had spilled all over the floors of the prison.

"Who are you and why are you on board this station?" he asked, for perhaps the seventh time in just as many minutes.

"I am ambassador of Icarus," the creature replied, repeating the same line again and again.

"Icarus is a dead world," Sinclair responded.

"Icarus lives!" the creaturew snarled, thrashing against the chains, "I am it's ambassador!"

"This is a military base," Sinclair reminded him, "Not a diplomatic station."

"But-"

The security chief turned off the speakers to the room, leaving the alien to thrash around and scream without any listening to him.

"If he does anything stupid," Sinclair raised an eyebrow, "Space him."

* * *

><p>Michael Garibaldi wipped his brow with the back of his hand, the sunlight seeming to melt him with the intensity of the heat. But, it seemed to do no good forthe sweat pouring down his face.<p>

"Mr. Garibaldi," a voice said in the background, and he turned to see Alfred Bester come walking towards him.

"What do you want?" he asked, grumpy at the sight of the Psi Cop.

"Hey now," Bester said, a hand behind him and his other in a small fist infront of him, "Is that anyway to greet the man who got you off of Io during the last days of the war?"

Garibaldi rolled his eyes, "What of it?"

Bester shrugged his shoulder, "Oh, you know, I could have left you for the post-treaty attack on Io. That would have put a damper on a lot of my plans."

"Fine by me," he snapped, "Now will you please go away? I am busy at the moment."

"With what?" Bester shot back, "Babysitting a bunch of mundane archeologists as they try to dig into five miles of ground to find out what is beneath us here on Epsilon 3?"

"It pays well," he shrugged, "With Mr. Edgars running Interplanetary Expaditions, he needs security."

Bester blinked twice at him, "Don't forget. You have a debt you still need to pay me."

"That account has been settled," Garibaldi growled.

"It's not until I say so," Bester smiled back.


	2. Weapons Testing

**Chapter 2: Weapons Testing**

Earth Force liked it's toys. More to the point, they liked other people working on them, to make sure if something went wrong, it didn't happen to anyone important. And unfortunantly, Jeffery Sinclair fell into the not-so-important category. So, now he stood into what was called Down Below, that section of the station where it hadn't been quiet completed yet, but made the perfect place for weapons testing.

Sinclair eyed with some apprehension the device that laid on the ground before him. It was a machine they had stolen from a Soul Hunter ship they had shot down during the Bread Riots on Epsilon 2 last year. And so far, they had barely been able to figure out a single thing about it. But that had all changed.

It was a devise the Soul Hunters used to trap the souls of the dying into their globes they carried around. But, if applied correctly, had the potential of being a laser powerful enough to burn a man from the inside out. And now, they were getting thier chance. A dangerous criminal, known to be smuggling out dangerous aliens and extortion, had finally be brought to justice; well, as much as the times allowed. And now, they were going to test the weapon on him.

The man spoke with a southern accent, singing drinking songs a plenty. He seemed oblivious to the fact his arms and legs were strapped to the chair, and so was his torso. Infact, he seemed to enjoy it. A little too much.

"I'm going to hang in the morning," the man sang outloud, "They're not going to wake until the break of day. They're going to hang me in the morning, to what I will say."

"Is that thing charged up enough now?" Sinclair asked the chief of security, burly haired Mr. Jack Kanwick.

"Yes sir," he said.

"The silence him."

The machine gave off a whirring sound, that sounded much like an old plane preping to take off. Then, an orange light shot forth, striking the man in middle of the chest. The man at once reacted to the pain, not even able to scream because of how much pain he was recieving. Great white beams were sucked from his body towards the globe right infront of the machine, which was also the focal point for the energy.

As the man slumped forward in sudden death, Sinclair sighed.

"What beasts we have become," he muttered.

Jack raised an eyebrow then shrugged. "Want me to start interrogating the soul?" he asked.

"Yes," Sinclair sighed, and he turned to the globe. The soul of the man could be seen, swirling in a vast mist, trying to break free, but unable to. Prevented by a small glass.


	3. Diplomat

**Chapter 3: Diplomat**

Susan Ivanova hated her job. She had joined Earth Force to be a great military commander. Lead great fleets in even greater battles. And yet, she found herself stuck on the Vega 7 colony. One of the few colonies that hadn't been annihilated by the sadistic Minbari during the war, it had become site of the human embassy to the other powers in the galaxy.

Susan found herself as military governor of the colony, more of a puppet position really. How had she gotten the job? She was the only Earth Force officer thought low enough to receive the assignment. The Centauri had moved into much of the Earth Alliance and had staked claims, since the Minbari had really only been focused on the destruction of Earth then putting a firm claim on their holdings. And Susan really didn't care about the colony. Or it's Centauri overseer.

"Lord Reefa," she said slowly, trying not to shot the arrogant son of a b-, "I understand your concern, but my people here are barely scratching a living. Period. And fourteen percent is an outrageous amount. Earth only made the colonists pay seven percent."

"The Centauri have a massive Empire," Reefa sniffed, hooked nose raised in insufferable superiority complex the man seemed born with, "Humans have a broken remnant of survivors. A massive fleet of Centauri warships cruise the galaxy. Earth has no fleet. The Centauri have so many subjects that we need the extra currency. The entire human race can feed itself on the wages of a beggar."

"And you probably only gave us jumpgate technology to expand your empire," Susan said, losing some of her cool.

"You're straight on that," he said, turning a gloating eye towards Susan, "You claimed a manifest destiny. But we took a glance at your history and saw your people love mistakes. Sooner or later you would stumble to the point you would come crawling to us for aid. And you did. I think the Emperor was too kind myself. Allowing you parasites to govern yourself when we could have simply taken over for you. We have survived many wars. A strong wind could rape your people to death."

"You are a sick son of a bit-"

"And you are a nothing more than a filthy whore trying to eat from the crumbs of the master's table," Refa snapped, grabbing Susan by the throat and slamming her against the wall, "If it wasn't for the fact the Emperor still think humans were worth saving, I would personally launch the biological weapon that would cleanse the galaxy of the filth on this planet. Be grateful Turin still reigns."

And with that he threw her to the floor. She hit the floor hard enough that it sent a jolt of pain through her back. Refa kicked her once in the ribs and she felt her rib break with a sickening snap. Then, he turned on his heel and strutted out of the office.

"I don't care how you get the money," he said over his shoulder, not turning back to her, "Just get it. Or I will."

Marcus was waiting outside for her. As he always was. Susan had no idea why the miner always was waiting for her. But, at the moment, she really wanted his company. If for no other reason than the moral support.

Marcus took one look at her and nodded. "I don't talk unless it is necessary," he said in his rich English accent.

"We got that in common then," she said, trying to fight off her feelings of hurt and pain.

"Want me to go fetch a bucket, put it on my head and pretend I'm the Vorlon god Vujee?" Marcus asked.

Susan raised an eyebrow, "Are you always this annoying?"

"Until I get what I want," Marcus said.

She smiled, "And what is that?"

Marcus smiled mischievously back, "I think you know."

Susan rolled her eyes, "No Marcus."

"No what?"

"I am not allowing you to join Earth Force."

"Why not?" he said, pouting his lower lip, "I don't need you. I can join without you."

"Not true Marcus," Susan retorted, "You need a recommendation. And I'm not giving you that recommendation."

"Why not?"

"I know you too well."


	4. Telepaths Don't Have Nightmares

**Chapter 4: Telepaths Don't Have Nightmares**

"_I will find you, I promise. No matter how long it takes."_

_She paused a second before nodding her head. He bent down, gave her a hug and gave her a kiss. It was the most heartfelt kiss they had ever shared. Both trying to sear the moment into their memories. But, had there been time, they would have been like that forever. _

"_I will find you, I promise. No matter how long it takes."_

_But, finally, he let her go, and gently pushed her into the shuttle. She stepped into it and sat down, and the officer bent across her and closed the door. There was a small window, and Lyta looked out it at Zack and put her hand on the window. He raised his own hand, and watched as the dust began to rise around the shuttle as it began to lift and join the convoy of shuttles. _

"_I will find you, I promise. No matter how long it takes."_

_As it rose higher and higher, he felt his heart drop. He could see above the Mars atmosphere jump points forming. The Minbari had arrived at Mars._

"_I will find you, I promise. No matter how long it takes."_

Lyta sat up in bed, a scream tearing from her throat. Her body was slick with sweat and from tears that streamed down her face. Those words, said exactly ten years ago to the day, still haunted her at least once a month. Sometimes, they were more vivid then others. This time, the dream had been the most vivid it had ever been.

"You were dreaming again," a very theatrical and proper voice said from a chair near her bed.

"What?" she asked, still trying to get her bearings on what really was and what really wasn't.

"Of him," the man said, looking at her with his eternally sad eyes, unable to bring himself to say the man's name.

"Oh Byron," Lyta said, wiping away the sweat from her face, which did nothing for the rest of her trembling body, "My love, it's just been ten years. And we were so completely in love. But you've been in my mind…among other things…and you know I carry no torch for him."

"I've seen into your mind Lyta," he said reproachfully, "At times you don't. But other times, it's a passion you can barely contain. You can't fool me Lyta. I know you too well."

"Oh my love," she said, motioning to him, "I only love you. I am your wife. I want only you. Let me show you just how much I love you."

Despite himself, Byron smiled at the whole passionate image that was flashed in his mind. Indeed, he would also show her just how far he was willing to go.

* * *

><p>Lyta leaned back into her seat as the shuttle started its descent into the Vega Seven mining colony. One of the few colonies from the original Earth Alliance that had not been wiped out, the Narns had tried to lay claim to it, but in a quick war the Centauri pushed the Narns out of the region and took over the planet as their own. And it had become the sight of a great diplomatic station for all the different races in the area to resolve problems. Which surprised Lyta to no end.<p>

"Miss Alexander?" a man asked, sitting by her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, turning to him, "I'm Mrs. Byron Gordon now."

"You're married?" he asked, his eyes growing wide.

"Yeah…" she said, trying not to glance in his mind, "Forgive me, but do you know me?"

"Yeah," the man said, "Name's Lou Welch."

"That's right," she smiled genuinely, "From Mars. The whole thing with your wife. I'm sorry that I didn't recognize you."

Welch nodded his head. "Oh well. I did have a bit more hair ten years ago."

"That too," Lyta shrugged.

Lyta grinned, looking at Welch. Indeed, he had lost quite a bit of hair. But what remained was still a brilliant reminder of the younger man. His brown hair was thick, even if it was mostly replaced by a dome of shiny skin for the most part. And the man had somehow remained a genuinely polite man and truly nice despite the destruction of Earth and Mars. Unlike so many people.

"What are you doing on Vega Seven Mr. Welch?" Lyta asked.

"Hey," Welch said, "Any dame is good looking as you can call me Lou."

"Alright," she felt her cheeks going warm at the attempt at flattery, "Lou, a handsome man such as yourself can call me Lyta."

Welch chuckled, "I'm too old a dog to believe everything people tell me, Ma'am. But thank you anyways, and I believe I will call you Lyta."

"Good," Lyta said, "So, what does bring you here Lou?"

He shrugged, "I'm on leave from the _Agamemnon_. Decided to take it here on Vega Seven."

"Why?" she asked, "This colony is owned by the Centauri."

"My daughter Katherine and her husband live here," he said, "Wife died during the Battle of Mars, and they're the only family I have left."

"A lot was lost with Mars," she said softly in agreement. A silent and tense moment passed between the two of them. Each pondering their own losses from those dark days.

"And what are you doing here?" Welch asked, trying to veer the mood away from such dark thoughts.

"Oh," she rolled her eyes, "A meeting."


	5. I am Minbari

**Chapter 5: I am Minbari**

Satai Delenn looked at her reflection in the mirror. Where once had been long flowing brown hair, was now a dome of skin. Where once had been a small crown of bone now was a massive crown of bone. Where she once had cramps once a month, there was nothing.

Her guilt for not stopping the destruction of the humans homeworld had driven her to this decision. Something that her mentor Draal had called irrational. But, it had been something that the rest of the Minbari race had called a wise decision. For once she had actually had young males going to seek her attention and affection. Finally the rest of the Grey Council had taken her seriously.

But, she had loved her hair.

She stood up from her chair to walk out of the room and head towards the door that would lead her out of the room. The door slid open as she approached, caused by proximity and movement and as she entered the hallway, the man sitting by the outside of the door looked up.

"Come Zacllen," she said, beckoning, "We must leave now."

"Of course," the man said, putting his hands in a triangle and not looking up, "Satai Delenn."

* * *

><p>Zacllen did not remember much past ten cycles. He remembered he always wanted to serve his people. That once he had been deeply in love. With a passion that while a shadow of a memory still was no less real. But, he had awoken ten years ago, lying on a bed in a healers' laboratory on a Minbari cruiser. Besides flashes and images, he had no memory of before that time. When the doctors had asked him his name, all he could say was "Zacllen." So, he was named Zacllen from then on.<p>

So, he had spent six years in Temple, learning alongside Lennier. His very good friend Lennier. And so, he had ended up serving Satai Delenn. She had wanted him to look up at her, but he was unwilling to. Even when he was, he never truly was looking up.

He towered over Delenn by half a foot. But, he knew he was inferior to her. She had so much wisdom and pain that he could never understand or comprehend. But, it was not his place to understand. Only to obey.

* * *

><p>The Conference room in the Government Building on Vega 7 was an odd at best glance. There were no doors to the room itself, which branched out into halls, both of which stopped at the doors and turned left and right, respectively. The table that occupied the room was a semi circle, resembling what Delenn thought to be either a smile or frown, depending on which direction you were looking at it from. The table also had engraved in it what looked like the rays of a star.<p>

She had been here once, when the old human military governor had been in charge. She had asked Governor Maynes what the table was supposed to be. He replied that it was a sunrise, a symbol that humanity would rise again. The man then went to quote some old prayer from their ancient Egyptian culture.

She sat in a metal chair, across from the Centauri Prime Minister, third in line to the throne, Londo Mollari. The man wasn't exactly what she called awe inspiring. His hair was crazy, sticking this way and that. At least _her_ hair had been well groomed, she thought in a very 'un'biased point of view. The man also seemed more than a little drunk, and she wondered where he had been right before he got there. Lord Reefa also was in the room, standing behind the Governor like a predator over its prey, reminding by its very proximity who really was in charge.

And on the other side of the table, sitting next to the Centauri, was Na'Toth. She was the Narn ambassador to the Earth Remnant, once having studied under Supreme Warmaster G'Kar, back when he was the main seller of arms to the then Earth Alliance. Intresting she had chosen this line of work.

"This meeting is now in session," Ivanova said, glaring at Delenn whenever her eyes turned her direction, which was quiet frequently, "Satai Delenn, you have something you wish to address this body about?"

"Yes," Delenn said, standing from her seat, Zacllen pulling her chair back as she stood, "For two years now we have been being hit along our borders and trading lines by a ship. The few reports we have got back has always confirmed there has only been one ship."

"If I may," Na'Toth said, "From what you have said, there could be a whole host of ships, and they only attack with one ship to hide their numbers."

"Could be Raiders," Mollari put in.

"These attacks are too precise to be Raiders," Delenn said, "Raiders sometimes panic and leave survivors. No, there has never been any survivors. Only a military leader can strike so precisely. So coldly. Have any of your governments been getting similar complaints?"

"Our borders are secure," Londo said, in a tone of mocking towards Delenn, "just because your people seem unable to protect themselves from bandits, doesn't mean the same with us."

"And while I'd rather gnaw my own hand off then agree with the peacock," Na'Toth growled, "No one dares take on the Narn Regime."

"The Remnant always is being hit," Ivanova said with a calm preciseness in her voice, "Not even the aid of the Centauri or Narns can stop that."

"The Grey Council has come to this conclusion," Delenn said, "The Narns would not, there is no profit to be gained. The Centauri just don't care to fight us, seeings as our generally good relations. What one power though would have cause to be continually striking at us, exacting a small amount of revenge, hopefully grinding us down for a counterattack?"

"That is a loaded question," Ivanova retorted, "I take umbrage at your insinuations?"

"Umbrage?" Delenn frowned slightly, "I am not familiar with this word."

"She means you insult her," Mollari volunteered.

"Ah," Delenn said with comprehension, "What do you take-umbrage-at?"

"That we are attacking you," Ivanova said.

"And how can you be so certain you are not?" Delenn asked.

"Because I'd be pulling the trigger to kill every last one of you," Ivanova snapped, "You murdered an entire race when it was you who approached us and didn't make your intentions known and we defended ourselves against a believable threat you posed. What else did you expect by dropping in unannounced at our front door? Then you desecrate the graves of the dead on countless worlds, and take no prisoners. I'd kill every one of you with my bare hands."

Reefa slapped her across the back of the head, and Ivanova's head hit the table with such force it bounced off and slammed against the back of her chair. Then he leaned towards her and said softly some words that Delenn could barely hear. Something about, "stop it' 'be nice' 'or I rape you'.

"She will be no more trouble," Reefa said, stepping back.

"Reefa!" Mollari snapped, "If you dare touch one of our human friends like that again when I am around, I will make sure you are trapped in a cavern full of Narns."

"I am sorry Prime Minister Mollari," he bowed his head and stepped back.

"You were saying Satai?" Mollari asked.

"Where is Captain Sheridan and the _Agamemnon_?"


	6. Warmaster's Delight

**Chapter 6: Warmaster's Delight**

"An interesting game G'Kar," Warleader G'Sten said, sitting across the stone slab table from G'Kar, looking at the game board and small pieces, each representing armies and such.

"Yes," G'Kar said, "This is an old Earth game called 'Risk'. There are several editions of the game, but this one is called the 'Galaxy Edition'. You roll the dice to make attacks and defensive moves, and you start scattered all over the board and try to conquer the entire map."

"And does this game help you prepare for the upcoming war against the Centauri?" G'Sten asked, picking up the small dice and rolling them in his hand.

"Most definitely," G'Kar said, "I attack Ragesh III from Sigma 957."

They rolled the dice and G'kar's six dice fared well against G'Stens four dice. All the armies on the planet had been defeated, so G'Sten removed them from the board. G'Kar moved most of his armies into the region.

"Unfortunately," G'Sten said, "That move put you in the midst of four heavily manned planets. And I can destroy you."

"Uncle," G'Kar replied, "If I was really that concerned about it, do you think I would have made such a move?"

G'Sten thought it over and frowned. "You've got a play in hand that you haven't shown yet," he mused.

G'Kar smiled, and three rolls later, he had taken two more planets surrounding Ragesh III, pushing back G'Stens' forces in the region. G'Sten had not taken into account Epsilon or the Narn Homeworlds themselves . As such, what was once assured victory had been turned into ash.

"G'Kar," his uncle growled, "You've decimated a good portion of my forces. How?"

"This is only your first time uncle," G'Kar shrugged, "Whose not to say I've been playing you a fool this entire time?"

G'Sten scowled at the implications of that statement.

"Don't worry Uncle," G'Kar said, "This is what I mean to do for our upcoming campaign."

"Ragesh III is a small farming colony," G'Sten shook his head, "No strategic value."

"But it does," G'Kar held up a finger.

G'Sten frowned, "What do you mean?"

"It's a way to see if the Centauri are wanting a fight," G'Kar explained, picking up the dice to prepare for the inevitable counter-attack, "Test their resolve. If they strike back, we can measure just how committed they will be against us in a war. If they don't we have a foothold that will allow us then to move outwards. Either way, we win."

"Interesting philosophy," G'Sten muttered, "but how realistic is it? Not only do you have the Centauri to worry about, but the Earth Remnant as well."

"The Earthers pose little threat," G'Kar shrugged.

"How do you figure that?" G'Sten raised an eyebrow.

"The humans aren't all that certain of their alliance with the Centarum," G'Kar explained, "And as I've heard it, the Centauri have been pretty harsh on the humans. Sooner or later they will snap. And even if they did decide to side with the Centauri, Earth has only been able to commission four heavy destroyers since the end of the war."

"And you once told the Kha'Ri that they showed alot of promise," G'Sten snorted.

"They do, more then you know. But, as the humans say, let the dice fall," G'Kar said and he let the dice roll off his hands and land onto the board.


	7. Abduction 101

**Chapter 7: Abduction 101**

"Read 'em and weep boys," Welch said, laying out his hand of cards onto the table infront of him.

A collective groan came from the rest of the group of men around the table. Hands of cards flew onto the table from frustrated throws and sharp glances from the losers. Welch scooped up the nice pile that had stacked infront of him.

"Sorry to win and run boys," he made a bow as he stood up, "but I've got a flight tommorow morning that I can't miss."

He turned around and barely noticed the fist that came flying at his face and knocked him out with an explosion of stars.

* * *

><p>Sinclair walked out of the Red Garden resturant, an "open air" joint on Babylon 5. Despite the fact that it was a military base, he was glad they had decided to put in not only a couple resturants, but also the shopping zone as well. Made life so much nicer.<p>

As he turned down the hall towards the turbolift, he noticed two men getting in.

"Hold the lift!" he shouted, and the taller of the two held the door for him.

He entered in the lift and nodded his thanks. The man who held open the door had a milky white eye, the cause being a massive scar that crossed from his cheek to his brow. The other man had short brown hair and Sinclair looked at his eyes. And they were dead. No emotions. It at once put him on edge. They both wore the bands of Night Watch, the peace keeping force that acted almost like Hitler's SS.

"How are you two doing?" he asked as the door closed.

"Just fine now," the dead man said very softly and without emotion, "now that we have you."

Sinclair turned to look back. He had been lucky he did. The man 's fist was raised and struck down, a precise move meant to knock him out. It hit him on the forehead instead, and he reeled slightly. He went for his PPG but the other man struck him in the side, causing him to bend into the punch slightly, throwing him off some.

"Sinclair to Secu-" he tried to shout, lifting his comlink and turning it on with his chin, but the dead man struck him in the Adam's Apple, immediatly shutting down his ability to speak.

Sinclair grabbed at his throat and with his left hand tried to land a blow on his assailants. But, his left hand was his weaker one, and it was met by the large guy, who grabbed his hand and used it to spin him around, and using his wrist hit him between the eyes, knocking Sinclair out.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Welch," a man said in the dark, "I see you're awake now. Very good."<p>

"I can't see," Welch said, feeling a massive amount of pain around his head, and an equal amount of pressure, "Am I blind?"

"Just blindfolded my good sir," the man said, "When we are done, you will have your blindfolds removed."

Welch wished he could have opened his eyes, because he would have rolled them. This was purely ridiculous. The man was clearly a human, so why was he detaining one of the few people between him and total annihlation? This was purely insane was more like it. He couldn't move because of more restraints then he cared to count.

"I am Security Officer Louis Welch, 79918 Baker," Welch said in a monotone voice.

"Come come Mr. Welch," the man said from the dark, "let us not be enemies here."

"You made me one by abducting me," he spat, "What else was I to do? Make you cookies?"

"Answer a simple question," the man said, "That's all I need."

"Yes, your mother is a whore," Welch laughed, "Simple enough."

"You cannot anger me," the man sighed, "Nor can you intimidate me. I have the power here."

"Like heck you do," he said, "Now what is your question?"

"Where is Captain Sheridan?"

Really? Was that what this was about? Welch would never tell. He would not betray his captain. If this man was part of the government, maybe he'd tell. But this charade had proven to the contrary this man was a slime. Probably in league with the Minbari.

"Go to Hell," Welch spat, "Both metaphorically and litterly."

"This _is_ Hell Mr. Welch. And I am the residant devil. This is both hellfire and damnation. Your every moment will be to please the masses with your pain. Until you give me the information I seek, you are a damned soul."


	8. Lost in the Mind

**Chapter 8: Lost in the Mind**

Sinclair awoke on _Babylon 5_, only to realize there was no power on. Nothing worked. Lights refused to turn on and his comsystem refused to allow him to make calls. All he saw was a black screen. He dressed himself and walked to the door, forcing it open by sheer strength. Turbolifts did work though. That was good. But they didn't lead to anywhere except to the bridge and the level beneath the Zocalo, the shopping center on Babylon 5.

No one was on the station. It was silent, too silent for him. Sinclair had always been part of a group. Always in a crowd. Here, where there was no crowds, no subdued mutter of thousands of people moving about, not even a companion to talk to, it was driving him mad.

After a frustrating couple minutes trying to work the main console to allow him to send a distress signal, he had slammed his fist onto the console, threw an angry fist at the bridge windows, and strode out. Perhaps he could take the stairs down to the hangerbay.

He walked out onto the hallway that would lead to the hangerbay, when a set of lights before him shut off. He blinked and noticed it was darker behind him as well. He turned to look behind, and the lights infront of him went dim. One by one lights shut off, until only one light was still on. The light he was standing in.

"'Ello Captain Sheridan," the man with the scar said, walking into his light, "You are such a big captain. Heavens knows, you probably thought you were _so _superior, _so _untouchable, _so God-like_ here on your precious station that you were above the law. Above us ordinary men. Well Captain, time to wake up and smell the roses."

"What do you want?" Sinclair demanded, "What have you done to my station?"

"Nothing," the man shrugged, "Your station is fine."

"Good-"

"Although," the man said, stopping and putting a mocking thoughtful quester of finger around his chin, "Whether we are actually on _Babylon 5_ or not is up for debate."

Sinclair raised an eyebrow, "We are on _Babylon 5_."

"Are you sure of that?"

"I am," Sinclair retorted.

"Nothing here is real Cap," he mocked, "Only me, and this place you have constructed in your mind. Yes Jeffy, we are in your mind. And we are going to answer two vital questions."

"Oh really?" Sinclair snorted, "Only two?"

"These two will lead to intresting conversations my popping jay," he replied.

"Who are you to demand anything of me?" Sinclair snapped, "Whose authority has brought you here?"

"I am Liutenant Boggs of the Night Watch, Inquisition Division," the man bowed, "And my friend, Private Cutter, is making sure the machine is not killing us. The death of a man link mentally with an other man has had...unpleasent results on the man linked."

"What are your two questions?" Sinclair mumbled.

"You have information concering the whereabouts of Captain John SHeridan and the _Agamenon_," Boggs said, circling him, "the Minbari are beating the war drums, and only the detainment of Sheridan will stop them. Sheridan was on Babylon 5 three weeks ago. Give me the information I want.

"Secondly, ten years ago you were at the Battle of the Line. For some reason, after you were captured, they not only released you days later, but also decided to end the war. Why? I will discover your secrets Sinclair."

* * *

><p>Four hours had passed, and Welch was still unbroken. They continually asked him the same question, over and over again. "Where is Sheridan and the <em>Agamenon<em>?" But, he wasn't going to crack. Heck, he had been tortured by the Minbari on Io, before he had been rescued. They at least had ingenious ways of torture.

"I tire of asking you this," the voice said, "So this will be the last time. Where is Sheridan and the _Agamenon_?"

"Good," Welch said, his voice tired from continual denials, "Maybe I can rest now."

"Where is Sheridan and the _Agamenon_?" the voice asked again, "Or it will be dragged from you, quiet painfully."

"Up yours," Welch spat, although his mouth and throat were too dry to allow him to actually spit onto the ground.

The man sighed. A button clearly was pushed, and he could hear the man say, "Send Miss Winters in."

There was a buzzing as the door to the room was unlocked and he could hear the door open.

"Should have answered me when you had the chance," the man sighed.

"Hello Mr. Welch," a very sassy voice said as the sound of high heels entered the room, "You have been a very naughty boy. So much infact, that you have made me miss my own wedding. And believe me, this will hurt you a lot more then it will hurt me."

Welch at once knew he was in trouble. It was not the fact it was a woman. It was not the fact he could hear leather gloves being pulled off of hands. It wasn't even the cold hand being put onto his forehead to tear his secrets out of his mind. It was the fact that he had a woman that had missed her wedding. And she was pissed off.

* * *

><p>"Jack," Laura Takashima said into his comm screen, "Have you seen the Captain?"<p>

"Nah," the security chief said, looking at the screen from his sitting position, "Why?"

"I've been trying to contact him the past few hours," she replied.

"Have you tried medlab?" he asked.

"Doctor Kyle hasn't seen him either," she shook her head.

"I'll get station security on it," he said, rubbing his fingers together.

"Thanks, C and C out," she said, turning off the screen.

_Man_, Jack thought to himself, _Good thing I'm head of security, because if I wasn't, I'd shoot whoever would order me to make this stupid search_.


	9. Tarkis of Golus III

**Chapter 9: Trakis of Golus III**

If you needed anything done, Trakis was the man to go to. He wasn't just some ordinary petty thief. He also just happened to be one of the few allies that the Starkiller had. So, it really didn't surprise Trakis when on his small moon of Zarges he recieved a communication from him.

"Why Captain," he nodded his head, "What a pleasure to see you again."

John Sheridan was everything Trakis wasn't but wished he was. An honest man, not to a fault of course. A hero in the eyes of everyone of his people. A war hero, loved by his own people, respected and feared by those of his enemies that still remained alive. Sheridan was known to have outlived every single one of his rivals that had come after him. None could withstand the Starkiller.

"Trakis, you piece of slime," Sheridan growled.

"Oh," Trakis moaned, "Is that anyway to treat your supplier?"

"Your cloaking technology failed us," Sheridan snapped, "I had to kill that Minbari cargo ship the hard way. I demand a refund."

Trakis tisked. "Tut tut Sheridan. You know my policy. No refunds."

Sheridan glared at him. Trakis could only help but smile. Sell the man defective materials, and he can't really complain. He knew Sheridan's mission; the real one and not the guerrila campaign that everyone talked about. It was granduer in scale then that.

"Come by my moon Sheridan," he suggested, "And I'll get you situated very nicely."

Sheridan rolled his eyes. "I guess that will have to do. _Agemenon_ out."

* * *

><p>Sheridan walked off the shuttle, taking in the red light from the red dwarf of the system. He really hated this planet. He really hated the mission. He really hated the Minbari. And at the moment, he really hated Tarkis. Tarkis was a slaver, a cheat and all around bad guy. Last time he had been here, Tarkis had proceeded to kill his slave, Adeera Tyre for failing to deliver to him some vital information. He had only caught the words 'purple files' but that meant nothing to Sheridan.<p>

Beside him walked the ships doctor, Stephan Franklin. Franklin hadn't had any chances in the past year to get of the ship, and the ship bound doctor had been a holy terror the past two weeks. Two days ago he had proceeded to trash medlab, just to relieve some of his own cabin fever. So, Sheridan had offered the good doctor a chance to come down with him, and the man had leapt at the opportunity.

On the other side walked Lt. Keffler. Keffler wasn't the brightest of people. Heck, he could be compulsive at times. But, the Top Gun of the starfury pilots wasn't too bad on his feet either, and when it came to Tarkis, there wasn't too many people he would have at his side.

The one thing that caught Sheridan's attention was the red dirt of the moon was softer then usual. He would have to bring that up in conversation with the good suppler. And Tarkis with his tan skin stood waiting near the entrance of his home, a massive three-storied building. His long hair was draped over his shoulders, falling down mid-way down his chest.

"Welcome Starkiller," Tarkis said, holding both hands open and apart, in a sense like some gambling host of some kind, "I really didn't expect to see you so soon. Breaks the routine we've created."

"Don't sweet talk me Tarkis," Sheridan snapped, "Just tell me what you've got in exchange for your faulty device."

"You'll be most pleased," Tarkis said, reaching out to take him by the arm, "And I won't even charge you full price."

Sheridan groaned. "This better be worth it."

"Oh," Tarkis smirked, "It will."

Tarkis had barely finished when a blast of fire struck him in the chest and he spun around, landing face first into the dirt. Blood flowed freely from his looked down at the body for a full second before his mind kicked in the fact that someone had just shot Tarkis. Sure, he really could care less about the worm, but he didn't think it was nessecary to kill the slime.

And he heard all around him the shouts of Minbari warriors as they came rushing from hiding places in a desperate all-out attack on Sheridan Starkiller and his group. Sheridan barely had time to think as the shuttle was hit by an explosion, destroying it with a cloud of debris and flame. Franklin had been closest to the shuttle and was thrown against the ground. Keffler rushed back to see if the doctor was alright.

Sheridan pulled out his PPG and aiming it at the closest Minbari pulled the trigger. He hit him in the head, and the warrior did a flip in the air as his head jerked back from the shot. Another Bonie leapt over his falling comrade, but he fell as well to a blast that took him in the shoulder. Sheridan stepped back, firing as he went. Two, three, four more fell to the ground from his blasts. But they kept coming on, firing as they went, some of the shot coming so close they burnt the hair on his face.

"Contact the ship!" he shouted to Keffler, who was helping the doctor to his feet, "We got to get out of here."

* * *

><p>Ranger Lennier was one of a kind. The best of the best he was. His determination was legendary, even for his young age. He would kill every last enemy to his people. Even if they were human, Narn or Centauri. Even the Ancient Enemy if they ever reappeared. But, all he had in mind, in the red haze of battle, was Sheridan Starkiller, surrounded and outnumbered.<p>

_You aren't so tough without your ship, are you Starkiller?_

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry Captain," Commander David Corwin's voice came over the comm, "We are in a bit of a situation up here as well."<p>

"Like what?" Sheridan demanded from his makeshift fortification which was the destroyed shuttle, using the ruined remnants as barriers.

"A Minbari cruiser...no, make that four cruisers have jumped out of hyperspace and are attacking us," Corwin replied, "There's not much I can do to help you at the moment."

Sheridan looked up over the jagged edge of a piece and shot down an enemy warrior as he ran forward. Keefler was also scoring a few hits of his own, but nothing as impressive as hs captain.

"Fine, get out of here David," Sheridan shouted into the link, "I'll get out of this some way or the other."

"Sir," Corwin began, "We can stay and fight. We can beat these guys."

"No Commander," Sheridan snarled into the link, "You can never defeat four. Get out of here and save yourself."

"But-"

"That is an order Commander!"

There was a second pause on the other end of the link.

"Alright, sorry sir," Corwin's voice sounded resigned.

"Don't worry kid," Sheridan assured him, "Just keep the ship and crew safe. Sheridan out."

And with that he clicked off the button, ending the communication. Blaster fire ripped over the top of their defenses, making it hard to move. But, they couldn't stay. They'd die if they didn't move. If they at least got to Tarkis' house, they could enter his labriynth of tunnels he had built under the structure.

"Captain," Keffler shouted, "How'd they learn we were coming here? Who knew beside us?"

"Don't know Liutenant," Sheridan called back, "Let's worry about that later though. Right now we need to get over to Tarkis' house. We can survive better in there then out here."

Keffler glanced over the top of the ruined remains of shuttle he was standing behind. "Through all those Boneheads?"

"You got it," Sheridan affirmed.

"But we'll get killed," Keffler replied, firing off a round to keep a certain Minbari from getting any bright ideas.

"At least we'll be out of the sunlight and in the shade," Sheridan pointed out, to which Keffler shrugged to.

"Can you make it Doctor?" Sheridan asked back at Franklin, who had barely regained consinceness.

"Do I have a choice?" Franklin asked, holding his head between his hands.

"Not really," Keffler put in.

Franklin muttered under his breath. And with that, they jumped, staggered and ran from behind their defenses, straight towards and through the enemy forces arrayed against them.


	10. Centauri Worship

**Chapter 10: Centauri Worship**

While Ivanova didn't care much for the Centauri overlords, she had to admit: they knew how to throw parties.

And why not? War between the Earth Remnant and Minbari Federation had been averted. John Sheridan, a shining beacon of hope for the Remnant, and a scourge to the Minbari, had been captured. That and only that could have avoided the inevitable confrontation.

Then why wasn't she feeling safer? Was it simply the fact she was in a room full of Centauri? Was it simply the fact she had lost so much? Or was it something more simple then that? Was Sheridan the lifeline of the Earth Remnant?

She hoped not. That would be a disaster of unmitigated porportions. Any chances they had would be lost.

The music and dancers and noises were assailling her every sense. Lord Reefa wasn't around, which was a very nice change of pace. Reefa had come down sick with a flu only harmful to Centauri and while not fatal, would keep him down for the night. But, it was made up for the fact that Prime Minister Mollari was sitting right next to her, and on the other side of Mollari sat a bumbling moon-faced man called Vir.

Even as they continued thier delightful celebrations, Londo threw his hands back, tossing the cup of brivari he had at one of the dancers. She wasn't pretty, even by the Centauri's degradant standards. But, she felt a pang of sorrow as Mollari began shouting out at everyone.

"We all look cute!" he shouted across the room, which got an explosion of cheers, "Commander Ivanova, you are cute. I would take you in a Centauri manly way. Get back to me on that."

Ivanova certainly wasn't going to let _that_ get in her pants.

"Vir Cotto is cute too. In an annoying way, you moon-faced assassin of joy!"

Vir looked at him with wide eyes. "I'm-I'm-I'm, sorry, Prime Minister."

"Even Reefa looks cute," Mollari slammed his fist on the table and jumped up on top of the table, holding his hands sky-high, "I hope to carve his face into the palace walls. Litterlly his face."

Ivanova didn't know whether to take this guy seriously. Mollari was a joke. A bad one at that.

"But in purple," Mollari touched the top of his chest with the tips of the fingers on both hands, his elbows raised up in the air, "I am stunning!"

And with that Mollari collapsed forward and hit the floor. Ivanova raised an eyelid. What a perverse little man.

"He's reached a spiritual estacy," Vir clapped his hands.

"He's passed out," Ivanova threw a glare at him.

"W-w-well that too," Vir said sheepishly.

A shout of "Awooo!" ran through the group. Vir stood up trembling visibly and held high his cup.

"Here's to an end-well, not an end-okay, an end," Vir stumbled along, "To the threat-some consider it a threat, I think it's quiet courageous if I say so myself-of Captain Sheridan!"

Even as everyone cheered this awkward toast, Ivanova could not help but think to herself, _Threat to whom? Us or the Minbari?_


	11. Lives of Silence

**Chapter 11: The Lives of Silence**

_Oh, why does this always happen to me? _

Vir laid back on the couch in the guest quarters on Vega 7. Not much to be proud about, mind you, but a people enslaved would always be down-beaten. At least, that was his line of thinking. Not all Centauri thought like that though.

Lord Reefa was one of them. He was part of the old guard line of thinking that prevailed over most of the Centauri nobility. Every race except their own was inferior, and should be treated as such. But, he would one day change that.

Well, he would if it wasn't for the fact that no one would take him seriously. No one at all. Except for Him.

"You've been drinking again Vir," the man in the heavy black robe said, hood pulled up over his face, "That's not the best way to become admired."

Vir waved his hand. "Only one drink though," Vir replied.

The man chuckled to himself. "You must get off your lazy backside," the man announced, "The time has come."

Vir raised his eyebrows. The time had come? Really? He didn't quite believe that. There was far too much to do. Like sober up.

"You said it wouldn't happen for a while yet," Vir replied, turning away from him, "Besides, I've more important things to do. You know…important things. At least I think they are important."

"The Conspiracy of Light must act now," the man snapped, "Everyone must do their part now. Sheridan's capture will spell the end of us all. Sheridan must be rescued. And soon. Or the evil one will come to deceive him. That must not happen. And you just happen to be the only one who has any clout to do that."

"The Minbari will never release Sheridan," Vir responded, "not even to the bumbling Centauri ambassador to Minbar."

"You must save him though," Matthew Gideon said, leaning forward, "Or we are all doomed."

* * *

><p>Garibaldi didn't sleep very well most nights. His wife Lisa was away with his daughter Kassie, and he found himself once again without anything to do. So, in the dead of night, he decided to take a small stroll. The guards surrounding the dig site let him pass through without any challenge, and he began the descent down towards where they suspected a landing pad for ships might be.<p>

Was he supposed to go down there alone? No.

Did he need to go down there? No.

Was it better than doing nothing? Yes.

He had nearly made it down there, when a yellow-orange light flashed before him. The light seared his eyes, and he closed his eyes, throwing up his hands to keep away the light.

"You must not be here," a soft-wavering voice said, "We await the One that changes. Now go!"

Garibaldi didn't even realize he had hit the ground until he blacked-out.


	12. Prayers of War

**Chapter 12: Prayers of War**

G'Kar could have not wished for better news then when he had learned that Sheridan Starkiller had been captured by the Minbari. There were few in the Centauri Republic he cared for, and even fewer he respected. Sheridan though, he went past respect. G'Kar wondered if perhaps he had feared the Earther. The man who could and had destroyed countless Minbari ships. And if he could do that, what short work could he have made against the Narn's when they were to attack? He shuddered to contemplate the bloodshed.

But contemplate he did, and his red eyes were filled with visions of fields of blood, and wading through the mutilated bodies of Centauri, with the occasional human fool in the mix. He hoped that the Humans stayed out of the affair when it came down to it, but he very highly doubted it. He knew the treaties that had been signed, and he knew the minds of the desperate. They would fight alongside the one power who had actively tried to protect them.

But that was nothing at the moment. He was pushing aside the thoughts of carnage and blood-lust, thinking only of what G'Quan had started so many years ago. The Days of G'Quan were upon them. The faithful were to spend a week fasting, praying and enjoying the benefits of the Narn religion. In a white robe that draped over his head, and in his red and green and brown robes, he seemed like unto a prophet. Indeed, in the congregation of people that would be here within the day, he was the closest thing to a prophet they had.

* * *

><p>Three Narn Heavy-Cruisers flew through the brown-orange-black dimension that was hyperspace. WarLeader G'Sten sat in his command chair, strapped in by thick padded restraints. The bridge crew sat close in front of him, monitoring the systems of the vessel as it flew with its triangular shaped brothers.<p>

* * *

><p>The Book of G'Quan sat heavily in his hand as he walked to the door. He reached out to grab the bolt to the door, and pulling it back, opened it. Sunlight poured through the door to his home, driving away the red shadows that dominated his home.<p>

* * *

><p>"We have reached the target coordinates," the pilot said from his seat to the front and left of G'Sten.<p>

G'Sten growled his enthusiasm. "Jump into normal space on my mark. Mark."

* * *

><p>G'Kar sat on his knees, candles flickering in the dim light. Incense burned in front of him, and he sang out the song of prayer. The song was simple and yet elegant. It reminded the listener at once the days of glory, and the hours of sorrow. The years of pain, and the decades of triumph. Alone they were nothing. Together, they were what made one strong and proud.<p>

He took the G'Quan Eth plant infront of him. The plant was a rarity, even for Narns who had lived forever in the knowledge of rarity. But, this was an endangered species of plant, the original occupation of Narn all but eradicating the plant. The Cenaturi thought it was good with brivari. They had no idea the religious sacrilege they committed, nor would they have cared.

He ripped up the plant, and dropped it into the burning smoke.

* * *

><p>Ragesh III was almost virtually defenseless. A minefield surrounded the diamond-shaped space station that orbited the planet. The farmers of the planet had acted well enough, activating the mine-field a few mere seconds after the Narn's dropped out of hyperspace. But, the Centauri were no match for the battle-hardened troops under G'Sten, who blasted a huge swath through the mines, and proceeded to attack the station.<p>

G'Sten could only hope the Centauri met their fates with a shred of dignity.

* * *

><p>G'Kar held up his hands in the last of the prayer, and a smile crossed his face. "So it begins."<p> 


	13. The Call to Arms

**Chapter 13: The Call to Arms**

Major Lianna Kemmer was her name. Guarding the President was her game. So, she was used to seeing people coming and going to see her. She had not expected though the Centauri Secretary of War, Urza Jaddo. When he came walking, his proud bearings that of the nobility, she could not help but feel amazed. What would bring him around to see the President?

"Child," he said, "Get me the President and the Chiefs-of-Staff."

"On what authority?" she demanded. Sure, she might be impressed, but she wouldn't be bullied by no one.

"The authority that keeps your peoples from being wiped out," Urza said, waving his hand, "Now be a good little human and go."

* * *

><p>President Susanna Luchenko was a stern woman. No matter who it was that saw her, had to admit she carried a fire that could annihilate entire planets. And her disposition was the same.<p>

Vice President William Clark could have cared little about being at this meeting, he had more important things to do, but he obeyed the President when she spoke. So, he sat with arms crossed, not really noting the men sitting next to him.

"The Narns have attacked our agricultural colony at Ragesh III," Urza announced to the group, "And the Centarum has responded with a declaration of war. As per the treaty signed between our two races, we require the following things: 1. Three of your Heavy Cruisers. 2. Sixteen support ships. 3. Five thousand GROPOS. Anything less will be seen as a break of the treaty."

General William Hage raised an eyebrow and said, "That's a good portion of our military. What if the Minbari decide to strike out against us?"

"Indeed," a tired response came from General Richard "Stormin'" Franklin, "We can barely defend ourselves to begin with."

"Gentlemen please. We will discuss your request," Luchenko replied slowly, with the calm born of many such meetings.

"Do not make the mistake of thinking this is a request," Urza responded, and with that strode from the room, throwing his cloak behind him as he walked.

"How come it is whenever I'm near him I want to become a murderer?" General Franklin asked, leaning to his side on the chair he was in.

"He's a bloody, arrogant fool," Clark snarled as soon as the Centauri was out of ear reach.

"It's that arrogant fool that is keeping the Minbari sharks away," Luchenko replied without any enthusiasm, "Now, gentlemen, will you do as we have been asked? Or do I need to do it myself?"

"No Ma'am," Hage replied, rising from his chair, "I'll see to the ships."

Franklin sighed as he said, "I had better see to my Ground Pounders." And with that, he arose from his chair and followed Hage out of the room.

"What is your thought on it Will?" Luchenko asked as soon as the military men were out of earshot, "About this whole affair?"

"With the capture of Sheridan," Clark started, "Followed by the attack on Ragesh III, and the stripping down of most of our forces to fight in this pathetic war, we are going to be hard put to it."

"Put it to me simply," the Russian snapped.

"I've got a bad feeling."


	14. I Hear the Voice

**Chapter 14: I Hear the Voice**

"_Who are you?"_

How many times had Sheridan heard that same question. Over and over again. Like a broken recording.

"_Who are you?"_

It was so much better than the other questions he had heard asked. For several days (Was it a whole week now?) they had come. They would ask him questions for an hour. Then for an hour they would torture him. Then, they would question him another hour. Then they would torture him for another hour. It was a vicious cycle that would never end.

"_Who are you?"_

Keffler had been executed on site when they had been brought by their captors to this ship, which he guessed was very important. He only guessed that because of all the figures in grey he kept being brought before. Franklin had been put into an induced coma by the Minbari, who would bring him out of it for only as long as Sheridan would be interrogated, and they would question the doctor before putting him back into the coma. Sheridan might have been no doctor, but even he realized that could not be good on the doctor.

"_Who are you?"_

He sat in his cell. Well, his newest cell. The Minbari kept switching cell on him, never allowing him the chance to get familiarized with his surroundings. To throw him into mental chaos by the sheer randomness of what was going on. But, he didn't care.

"_Who are you?"_

He sat with one leg stretched out on the floor, and the other one with his knee drawn up, where he rested his chin on his raised knee, hands clasping his leg. The Minbari also had the sick amusement of positioning the doctor in absurd positions. This time, he was hanging upside down from the ceiling, cords wrapped around him, binding his arms to his side. A faint glow and crackle of yellow energy could be heard, and he wasn't sure, but was that burnt flesh he could smell?

"_Who are you?"_

"I don't know."

The words had been simple, but he never imagined what came next.

"_If you do not know who you are, how can you be worth saving?"_

* * *

><p>The Minbari came again. As they always did. A particular man he had seen on multiple occasions was dragging him by chains to the chamber where he would be interrogated and probed quiet painfully from a triangular shaped device. He had never really talked to the man before, but, was this Minbari who stood before him a man? The robes he wore were a darker and more elaborate design. He wondered if it was a special honor to wear these particular robes.<p>

"Why are you doing this to me?" he finally asked. Even in his own ears his defiance sounded pathetic.

"You are a murderer of the weak and defenseless," the Bonehead replied with much anger in his voice.

"Your people murdered billions of my people," Sheridan retorted, "Their blood is on the hands of every Minbari alive."

"I was but a child during the war," his captor replied, "Am I guilty as well for things I could not have understood?"

Sheridan tiredly shook his head. "No, but you are guilty of your actions now. You have no honor. You are a doomed people."

The man whipped back his fist and slammed him in the stomach as hard as he could. Sheridan doubled over in pain.

"I am Ranger Lennier of Clan Chudomo," his captor said, standing over the bent over human, "I walk in the dark places where none dare enter. I stand on the bridge that none may pass. I live for the One. I die for the One."

"And you butcher in the name of the One?" Sheridan asked, raising himself up slowly.

"If I am required to," Lennier said, then motioning to the other guards nearby, they dragged him forward by the chains that bound him captive.

* * *

><p>"There is still no sign of Sinclair," Jake said as he walked beside Commander Takashima, "We've been searching, but, there simply is no sign of him."<p>

"There has to be," she replied, turning her gaze towards him even as they stepped into the lift.

"Ma'am," Jake said slowly, hesitantly, "My boys in Security are the best, but B5 doesn't have all that many places to hide. We might have to accept the fact that he is gone for good."

Takashima's icy gaze metaphorically dropped the temperature in the room by at least twenty degrees. "He's only gone if I say he is," she said very slowly, "Jeff is a smart boy. If anyone is still alive, it's him."

Jake was going to argue the fact, but a quick thinking killed that notion. He nodded and fell silent, leaving the two of them to journey in silence.


	15. The Offer of Peace?

**Chapter 15: The Offer of Peace?**

Emperor Turin, grand master of the equally great Centauri Republic, coughed haggardly into the handkerchief that he kept in the waist-coat pocket. Oh, how much he hated being old. Not that he had done much in his life anyways worth note. He had refused to really take sides during the Earth-Minbari War and they had become a destroyed people. His guilt had only been soothed by the fact he had saved many humans who might not otherwise be alive.

He coughed again, specks of blood flying onto the handkerchief. His days were few, oh so very few.

The door to the throne room opened and in stepped his old friend Malachi. Malachi was Prime Minister, a very scrupulous and very informed being. Indeed, he was perhaps the most capable man in the entire Republic. The guards that accompanied him dropped back a step or two, allowing the great man a great range of privacy. Malachi kept walking another couple steps, before stopping a step from the throne itself.

"Your Majesty," Malachi bowed low.

"My good friend Malachi," Turin said softly, "How many more deaths must we have on our hands?"

Malachi raised himself up slowly, frowning slightly. "Sire?"

"I never wanted another war during our lives Malachi," Turin sighed, waving a hand out towards the window, "And yet, we throw ourselves into conflict with the Narns yet again in less than a hundred years."

"Your Majesty-" Malachi tried to say, but Turin kept right on talking.

"Not only do we throw ourselves into another war with the Narns," the Emperor sighed, "We drag the humans in with us. Let us not drag this war on longer then needful."

"Your Majesty?" Malachi frowned, "What are you talking about?"

Turin looked up at Malachi and with a single blink of his eyelids said, "Let us offer the hand of peace to the Narns."

* * *

><p>"What are you talking about?" WarMaster G'Kar laughed looking at the alien in front of him. There wasn't much to distinguish him and his race from the countless bald-protruding cheek-boned aliens that seemed the normal in the universe.<p>

"Exactly as I said," the alien said, arms folded in his top layer of silk robes, "Turin proposes the Centarum allow him to start peace talks with your people."

"This is insane," G'Kar shook his head vigorously, "The Centauri care nothing about peace. They only care about making the lives of others miserable."

"Hey," the alien threw up his hands defensively, "I only tell the truth. I need my paycheck each week to keep the debtors off my back."

G'Kar snorted, "And that's why I don't trust you. You are no more than a paid peeping Tom."

"What was it you told me when you first hired me?" the spy said more in a statement then a question, "'We got to keep an eye on the Centauri and peek in on them every now and again.'"

G'Kar nodded once. "Perhaps this can be a good thing. Perhaps a knife in the dark at these peace talks can end a lot of the sufferings the Narn have been forced to endure."

The alien shrugged his shoulders. "I just get paid;" he pointed out, "What you do with the information is your own business Narn."

G'Kar thrust his hand in his pocket and brought out thirty Narn Q'koneys, the Narn currency. He thrust them into the outstretched hand of the alien and waved him away.

"Begone then. I've got work to do."


	16. Deathwalker

**Chapter 16: Deathwalker**

Jha'dur was Dilgar. Dilgar was once a proud race. They commanded fear and respect from the League Worlds. But now, Jha'dur was alone. All alone in the night.

Well, that wasn't technically true now was it?

The Windswords. That most warlike and abominable clan of an equally abominable Minbari race. They had found her. They had nursed her back to health. They had given her sanctuary. And all they wanted was weapons. And weapons she gave them.

The Windswords had kept her secret from the rest of the Minbari. Eventually, rumors had spilled forth, but the Grey Council, so high and noble were they, they could not accept the truth. And when the truth was finally thrust upon them, they were too ashamed to be harboring this monster that they buried it so deep, that no one could possibly have known about it.

He did though. And that was all that mattered.

"Sheridan has been in our custody for nearly four weeks now," Sinoval said, pacing around the room, his fist clenching and unclenching in his distress, "And yet we still have been unable to break him!"

"Did I not tell you underestimated him?" she yawned, the motion of her yawning making her silk night gown rise with her breasts as she did so, "Humans might be inferior when it comes to their physicality, but their minds can be steel traps. And their resolve strong. If only your people had had the guts to do what was needed."

"The Centauri protected them," Sinoval shook his head.

"Forget the Centauri," she snorted, "They are cowards with no moral centers."

Sinoval stopped his pacing and looked at her with a great deal of loathing. "And thus speaks the one without a soul," he growled.

She smiled sweetly, although it made her feline-like face that much crueler. "Not for nothing was I called Deathwalker," she pointed out, "And I know a decadent people when I see one."

Sinoval was a proud member of the warrior caste. He had fought in many battles and wars, as Shai Alyt of the _Trigati_. The Trigati had become the new flagship of the Minbari after the _Drali Fi _was destroyed by Sheridan Starkiller. He had plundered his way through the Earth Alliance and then the Earth Remnant and his second in command Kalain was his ideal pupil. Although, he had gloried in the bloodshed like no man should ever, and what he had done to those he had captured and in the fields of corpses when no one had been around would have brought the wrath of any Minbari with the slightest shred of common decency.

"I should kill you now," he spat, "Everything of my Minbari upbringing demands it."

"But you cannot," Jha'dur replied, standing up and walking over to him, putting her hand on his cheek, "I am too valuable, not only to your people but I dare say to you. Do not our encounters leave you…relaxed?"

"I will admit," Sinoval said, closing his eyes, "If you were Minbari, I would have married you myself. I have feelings for you that I know I should not."

"And I you," she smiled, "But you need more then my love at the moment. You need my cruelty."

Sinoval raised an eyebrow. "You can break him?" he asked doubtfully.

"I know many things you don't know about pain and torture," she replied, walking away from him, "Consider this the greatest proof of my love for you Sinoval."

"Do this," he said, taking a few long strides towards her and wrapping his arms around her from the back, "And you will never need to hide anymore."

* * *

><p>Sheridan had barely slept since he had gotten there. His mind kept replaying the last moments of Keffers' life. He had begged Sheridan to do something. Sheridan couldn't have, but he should have. He could have done something. Perhaps he could have overpowered the guards and saved him. Perhaps he could have taken the shot for him and they would have been satisfied.<p>

He needed her. Anna. He loved her so much. Where was that woman when he needed her the most? Never around, living with his sister Elizabeth on Epsilon 2. They had colonized the second planet of the four planetary system by orders from President Brown, the only surviving member of the Executive Branch, Earth Force One being hit during the evacuation of Earth.

He closed his eyes and could see her. Flaming red hair, lounging about the living room. Feet propped up on one armrest and her arm on the other one, her cheek resting against it and looking at their vid screen, watching one of those ridiculous documentaries she liked to watch.

Elizabeth would be talking to Dad, trying to keep his spirits up. Mom had been killed during a riot three years ago when food rations got cut by four-fifths during a food shortage. She had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And on Christmas Eve no less.

He expected any minute Anna would walk through the door, give him a disapproving look and tell him he was late for work or some ridiculous other thing she liked to do.

He tried to think about her mostly when he was being tortured, losing himself in the memory. It was the oldest trick in the book to keep from breaking. And if one had as strong a mind as he possessed, he could never be broken.

And just then, the door swung open, and he half expected it to be Anna, as if his very desires had conjured her up.

"Starkiller," a voice said, it must be Lennier, "Time for your little chat."

"Nobody's home," he managed to strangle out of his throat, "Come back tomorrow."

There was a slight pause. "I do not understand," he said hesitantly, "Please explain."

"It means…." Sheridan thought about it, or, well, attempted to. But, he simply gave up and said, "Never mind: take me to your leader."

"It is not to the Grey Council you go," the Ranger remarked, clearly missing the joke, "But to the Special Inquisitor."

* * *

><p>Lennier and another Minbari dragged Sheridan into a room which was completely dark. No lights, no dim glows showed in the darkness. They hesitated slightly, not knowing where to drag Sheridan. They could see no chains by which to hold him up.<p>

"Toss him on the floor," a female's voice said, not anywhere as serene as was Minbarian wont.

"But…" Lennier began, but a shushing sound issued forth from the darkness.

"The human will not harm me," the woman said, "Believe me on that."

Lennier passed an uncertain glance at his companion, who shrugged. So, they let go of Starkiller, and with the thump the human hit the floor. Lennier bowed towards the darkness, as did the other man, and they withdrew from the room. Total darkness engulfed Sheridan, who had been at the center of the column of light that passed through the door upon his entrance.

Pain shot through his arms and legs as what felt like metal tubes connected to needles thrust themselves into his body. He tried to jerk back despite how weak he was, but was unable to, at his legs and arms went completely numb within a second. Then, wires coiled themselves from the ceiling and lassoed itself around his neck. The tubes tightened and pulled upwards. He gagged as the tubes tightened and he felt his torso leave the ground, and soon he was sitting in an upward position, his numb knees feeling as if they were made of heavy lead.

"And now Sheridan," the voice mewed forth like some sick feline, "I shall break you, once and for all."


	17. Mutai

**Chapter 17: Mutai**

Walker Smith had always been a fighter. He had been a troublemaker as a child, breaking the rules and causing all sorts of chaos. He had even spent three years in a jail on Mars.

Then he had met Michael Garibaldi. Good soldier. Lousy drunk. He had given him the idea for how to put his anger and frustration in a useful way. A way that allowed him to beat the crap out of anyone.

Well, not anyone.

"Well, well, well," Garibaldi moaned as he opened his eyes and looked around the hospital room he was in, "What's up?"

"You are, thank heavens," Lisa's voice said from beside him, and he could feel her soft hands gripping his own.

"Heaven's got nothing to do with it," a strong voice came beside him, "Mike was always a person too stubborn for his own good."

"Walker?" Garibaldi asked disbelieving, but he turned his head ever so slightly to see his old friend standing there.

"Yeah man," Walker said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "It's me."

"Where did you come from?" Garibaldi asked, "Last anyone knew, you were still on Orion Colony."

Walked shrugged. "The scenery got pretty lame," he shrugged.

"I think I'll leave you two fellas alone," Lisa said, glancing back and forth with a small smile on her face. She bent over, and the two kissed, Garibaldi more than willing to melt into her warmth. After what seemed an eternity, Lisa pulled back from the kiss, slowly stood up and walked towards the door, and out of the room.

Walker stared after her as she left and whistling said, "Michael, if you die, can I have a piece of that action?"

Garibaldi glared, "In your dreams playboy."

* * *

><p>The doctor walked from the one side of the room to the other, as she did marking off the items on her list on the clipboard. Doctor Sarah Chambers had been one of the few doctors of her caliber of the human race that still had managed to survive. For that fact alone she was indeed proud, even if her office was no bigger then a single room studio apartment.<p>

"Are you sure you have no more dizzyiness or nauseous spells?" she asked, looking over at him.

"Like I told you the past two times," Garibaldi rolled his eyes, "I'm doing fine."

"You might think so," Chambers said, striding up to him with her long legs, "But let me be the judge of that."

"Tinplated dictator," Garibaldi mumbled under his breath.

"Ungrateful bald guy," Chambers snapped back, catching Garibaldi completely off guard. He didn't know she had _that_ keen of hearing.

* * *

><p>Bester walked into the hospital room, Garibaldi rolling his eyes. The man oozed superiority and confidence bred from a certain belief ion his own godhood. If anyone could shoot him, please do it now and avoid such unpleasentness.<p>

"Can't let me heal can you?" he grumped.

Bester chukled, "And what would be the point of that?"

Garibaldi sighed. "What do you want Bester?"

Bester shrugged his rounded shoulder. "It's more of what you want Mr. Garibaldi," he said, walking to the foot of the bed.

Garibaldi snorted, "And what could that be?"

Bester smirked, "You have a friend visiting you. Walker Smith, protege of the last era of boxing. He's currently under investigation for using steroids. Am I right?"

Garibaldi closed his eyes. How did Bester find out all this stuff?

"Yeah," he said, "So?"

"What is the one thing that can redeem him?" Bester asked, but did not give Garibaldi time to answer, "He needs a victory so final that no one will doubt him again."

"And I am supposing you can?" Garibaldi said unbelieving.

"If he wins a match in the Mutai," Bester replied, "He would become a legend."

Garibaldi frowned slightly and sat up in the bed. "The Mutai is aliens only," he pointed out, "They never would allow a lowly human to do participate."

Bester stared at Garibaldi for a few second then blinked once. He turned to walk towards the door and after grabbing the doorknob, turned to the bed ridden man. His fist was clenched in a fist behind his back.

"I would not be so sure."


	18. The Positions of Man

**Chapter 18: The Positions of Man**

Garibaldi walked through the front doors of the office that was where his boss, Cathrine Sakai sat. She was of Asian descent, and despite the fact that he easily towered over her by a foot or two, her slanted eyes and tight hair bun made her very imposing as a person, even frightening. Garibaldi might not be the smartest tool in the shed, but he knew not to cross her.

"Well, well," she smirked, "If it isn't Garibaldi. I thought the docs said you weren't going to be out of the hospital for another day or so."

Garibaldi shrugged. "Gave them the slip," he said, "So it wasn't like they could do anything about it. Hey...how did you know?"

"Please Garibaldi," she looked at him disappontidly, "I make it my buisness to know everything about my people."

"And probably Edgars is breathing down your throat to get into those top secret areas under the surface of here," Garibaldi ventured to guess.

Cathrine frowned slightly. Garibaldi didn't like that very much. When she did that, it usually meant something was wrong.

"We've been ordered to stop digging," she said.

Garibaldi frowned, "Why?"

Cathrine rubbed her eyebrows, as if she had a head ache, "By Presidential Order."

"Filthy pieces of..."

"Michael," Cathrine interrupted, "We have been given a new dig site though. So it shouldn't be too bad."

"Yeah," he sighed, letting go of his frustration, "Right."

* * *

><p>Jeffery Sinclair had been stuck wherever he was for over a month now. They had brought him out of the mental prison he had been in a week before, and infront of him, he saw a big round table that reminded him oddly of a dart board. It spun around in circles, dancing lights at the end of the board. Was he ever going to escape?<p>

* * *

><p>John Sheridan sat in his cell, wishing that someone would end his torture. Franklin had been taken away, and soon, very soon, all alone, Sheridan knew he would break. Time was ticking.<p>

* * *

><p>Londo Mollari sat in the captains chair of the Earth Heavy Cruiser, the <em>Posidon,<em> named after a mythological god of antiquity. A god who ruled the seas. The human captain, Captain Charley Dooright, was standing against the wall, pouting that his ship had been turned over to the Centauri Prime Minister for an important mission of Peace with the Narns.

But Londo slept, and dreamed not of peace. A throne. A single eye. A rag. His own beating heart slowing...slowing...slowing to a stop.


	19. The First of Many to Come

**_Note: Sorry for the LONG delay between chapters. My internet was disconnected and today is the first day it isn't_.**

**Chapter 19: The First of Many to Come**

_What does it mean to be Minbari? To always tell the truth._

_What makes us Minbari? Our willingness to spare the lives of Minbari._

_What makes us different from the universe? While they have their gods, we have Valen._

_What make Minbari the greatest race in the galaxy? Our ability to self-sacrifice._

How many times had Draal pounded that into Delenn's mind? Even before she had become an acolyte? She had lost count of how many times.

Zacllen sat at the foot of her bed, his back turned to her and in deep meditation. His legs were crossed and his hands were together in the shape of the beloved triangle. Delenn found herself smiling at her acolyte. He was indeed a lovely soul, one of the noble ones if she was correct.

The news of wars passed through her mind like the shadows in night. The Narn-Centauri War had entered its third week, with neither side willing to budge. Not that she cared for either Narn or Centauri. She believed all life was sacred, but if they refused to see it, there wasn't much she could do about that.

The communications control on the table in middle of the room chimmed twice. Zacllen raised his head, coming out of his meditation. He turned to Delenn and nodded once. Slowly he stood and padded over to the device. He pressed the button, and the Shai Alyt of their ship, which could loosely translate into _Signs and Portents_, appeared on the screen.

"We have picked up a distress beacon in Sector Fifty-One," the Shai Alyt reported, "Do you wish us to aid them?"

"Satai," Zacllen turned to her, "We do have pressing matters to attend to on homeworld. Perhaps it would be prudent to leave this to someone else."

Delenn sat up in her bed, which wasn't a great stretch considering that Minbari beds are slanted, unlike the human beds which were laid out flat.

"No," she said, "There is nothing more pressing then life. Get us to there."

"But Delenn-" Zacllen began, but a cold glance from Delenn shut him up.

"We shall assist them," Delenn said with a finality that could have made even the stars obey her will."

* * *

><p>A month. A month of torture and captivity. Captain John Sheridan, once the hero of the Earth Alliance, bright hope of the Earth Remnant, now was being dragged by his captors towards his cell. He had lost a lot of blood, which the inhuman terror known simply as Deathwalker had used tubes to slowly suck his life away. She asked no questions, but let the silence begin to break him.<p>

Walking behind him, looking smug over the Starkiller's demise was Ranger Lennier. He who lorded over the murderer of so many of his people. Who was in a single being the personfication of everything he was trying to destroy.

But Lennier was in wonder at the man before him. How had he not broken? What did he cling to? That kept him defiant?

Was it hatred? Was it pure foolishness? Was it bravery? Was it fear? Or was it a combination of all four?

The cell door slid open and he watched as they tossed the Starkiller in. He took a few seconds to look at the man and turned to leave.

"Le-Le-Lennier?" Sheridan croaked out, his throat all but bone dry from the loss of blood.

"What do you want Starkiller?" Lennier asked.

"How could your people take up with Jha'dur?" Sheridan asked, curled up in a ball.

Lennier's eyes squinted in obvious surprise. What was the fool talking about? Deathwalker was not among his people. She had died a long time ago.

"You must be mistaken," Lennier said.

"Am I?" Sheridan asked, "Who else would do such barberic means to torture the prisoner?"

"You have been tortured by the Questioner," Lennier shook his head, "What makes you think-"

"Look next time," Sheridan spoke slowly, "Watch my torture. See for yourself."

Lennier frowned slightly. What was the mad fool babbling about? Deathwalker? The poor crazy. He pushed a button and the door closed.

"Mr. Lennier did ask a very good question," a voice said from a corner, "What do you want?"

* * *

><p>"Commander Takashima," General Ryan, one of the Chiefs of Staff of the Remnant forces said, "Your searches for Sinclair have been wasteful at best, stupid at worst."<p>

"But sir," Takashima pleaded, "I can find him. I know it."

"It has been a month since he was lost," Ryan snapped, "I am sorry Takashima, but I am ordering you to end the search, and be ready to recieve your new commanding officer."

Takashima sighed. "Yes sir."

"Good," Ryan said, "He should arrive in the next two days. Ryan out."

The screen shut down, and Takashima dropped her head into her hands, weeping at the lose of her friend, Jeffery Sinclair.

* * *

><p>"Coming upon the coordinates of the distressed ship," the Shai Alyt reported to Delenn as she finished getting into her robes.<p>

"Good," she said, "Let me know as soon as you have started ferrying people on board."

"Yes, Satai," the Shai Alyt bowed his head and the screen went blank.

Delenn was walking down the hall when the first blast ripped through the engines, destroying them and shutting off most of the power to the ship.


	20. Sands of Blood

**Chapter 20: Sands of Blood**

"Are you sure about this Mike?" Walker said as his older friend walked him towards the Mutai arena, "Do they even allow humans in there?"

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Is that hesitation I hear in your voice?" he mocked, "Come on it'll be fine."

Walker shrugged his shoulders. "How do you know?" he asked.

"I owe a guy a debt and he says this is one of the things I need to do to get out of his debt," the man replied, "And don't worry, he's got connections."

In they walked through the front door, and instead of going into a great arena, they were in a training room. They could see Brakiri in a corner, wearing what looked like their equivalent of boxing gloves going at each other. They could see a Drazi hanging upside down from a bar in the far corner, his arms crossed. He seemed to be doing curls upside down. A Minbari was practicing what seemed to be martial arts moves in the back.

Standing in center of the room, talking to a Pak Ma Ra was a man who seemed to be Brakiri, but he didn't look exactly like them. He had a large dome head which was bald. An indentation ran down from his eyebrow to the tip of his nose.

Walker looked at Garibaldi who raised his eyebrows. He wasn't going to do this for him. Walker would just have to do this on his own. So, he rounded his shoulder blades back, and with back straight walked up to the man.

"Hey yo," Walker said, "Whose the head domo around here?"

"What do you want human?" the man said, looking at him disdainfully, "This is sacred practicing ground for Mutai. No one comes in here without my permission."

"So you are in charge then Gramps?" Walker restated his question.

"None of us are really in charge now are we?" the man asked, "But, I oversee the Mutai here."

"I want in," Walker announced.

There was a general round of rude chuckles they came from them that were practicing and even from a Centauri who hadn't even heard but had stepped out of what probably was their bathroom. The main Mutai one could call him just stared at Walker until the laughter died down.

"Humans no participate in Mutai," the man said, turning away from Walker and began to walk away.

"What?" Walker demanded, his blood pressure rising with his temper, "I come all this way and you tell me I can't? Because I'm human? I'm Walker Smith! The best boxer the galaxy has ever seen! Don't you walk away from me old man!"

He grabbed the man's shoulder, but the alien spun around and came up with an uppercut. Walker's chin and the fist made contact, and even as he began to rise from the ground due to the force of the blow, the alien stiffened his other hand and slammed hard against Walker's shoulder. He staggered under the double blows and the alien jumped up in the air and spinning in the air round house kicked him. Then, a kick to the stomach sent Walker flying.

He landed hard into several dumbbells, knocking them over. He looked stunned at the alien who looked at him smug.

"Now Walker Smith will leave," the alien said, pointing to the door, "I am Shodo, Mutai-Do. I have fought and won every fight for seven years when I was younger. I am the Speaker. I am the one who say. And I say, Walker Smith will leave."

Humiliated, Walker stood up and began to stumble out of the training room. Michael went to help, but Walker violently threw Michael's hand away.

As soon as they left, Bester walked out from a room opposite the door. "Mutai-Do," he bowed to him, "Send your three best Mutari. Kill Walker Smith."

"With pleasure, Mind Reader," he bowed his head.


	21. The Price of Loyalty

*****Sorry about the long time to update the story. I was pretty busy with other writing projects including a book I published online. But, I am back in the game.

**Chapter 21: The Price of Loyalty**

Lennier stepped off the small lift of the ship and down the corridor. A couple days had passed since he had heard the Starkiller's outrageous claims about Jha'dur. But, for all its outrageousness, it had bugged him. The human had seemed so sincere in the truth of his words.

He stepped up to the door with the chime bells to the side of it and paused for a second.

_Wait!_ he thought to himself, _What am I doing? I cannot go just walk up to Shai Al'yt Sinoval and confront him about this?_

But, curiosity won out against reason and he slid his hand down the crystals for the bell. The door slid open nearly immediately and in front of him, towering and intimidating was Shai Al'yt Sinoval. His clean face looked down on Lennier.

Lennier saw a glimpse of movement to the side of his eyes and a quick glance showed him a woman in the background. But, he could not tell who it was.

"What do you want, Anla'Shok?" Sinoval growled, his eyes bearing deep into Lenniers', "As you can see I am busy."

"Sorry," Lennier held his fingers up to shape a triangle and bowed, "I must have been turned around."

Sinoval grunted and beckoned him in. Lennier stood for a second in mid bow, wondering what this was about. But, he stood and walked inside and the door slid closed behind him. He entered the room and looked upon the woman who was sitting on the couch. It was clear to Lennier she was not Minbari. What race was she?

"Anla'Shok Lennier," Sinoval said, walking to a chair and sitting, "I said I was busy, but you might be able to help. My friend here is currently trying to break Sheridan Starkiller."

"Oh yes?" Lennier said, standing near a small table. He automatically did not like the woman, whomever she was.

"You have had some time to be around the human," Sinoval remarked, "What has he revealed to you?"

"Nothing," Lennier said.

"Really?" Sinoval asked, raising an eyebrow, "I have heard that you have spoken to the human at length. Do you deny this?"

Lennier shook his head, "I don't know what you are talking about. We have said maybe one or two words back and forth."

"Like what?" Sinoval pressed as he ran down a hand along his robe and straightened it out.

"He did mention that he was being tortured by Jha'dur," Lennier remarked, but laughed, "That is a ridiculous statement though."

"Indeed," the woman at last spoke, having been silent the rest of the time, "I did not so much torture him as I tried persuading."

Lenniers' eyes narrowed. This woman could not be who she claimed to be. It was outrageous! But, why was a small voice in the back of his mind nagging him that it was the truth?

"Yes," Sinoval said, taking Jha'dur's hand in his own and lifting her knuckles to his lips, "This is Jha'dur. Deathwalker."

Lennier sat stunned as if a thunderbolt had struck him. What would drive an honorable Minbari to ever join forces with Deathwalker? Minbari do not lie though. The whole idea was a sacrilege to nature itself. But, she could not nearly be old enough to be Deathwalker. Minbari do not lie.

"You said you needed my help?" he finally asked.

"I actually need you," Jha'dur said, standing and beckoning him to follow her through an opening in the wall, "I have been working on a serum for eternal youth and immortality."

"That's..." he said hesitantly, "Generous. And who would benefit from this discovery?"

"My," she said with a small vicious smile, "The Minbari of course. The Windswords hid me for years after my defeat at the hands of the humans. And when the Grey Council learned, they did not interfere, since I could be very instrumental to them for the next war with the Human Remnant."

"And why would they make such a deal?" he asked a cold seething anger building up inside him, following her into the corridor which was dark, no lights in here to show the way, "Why would they allow you to live, even with a promise of a serum that could or could not be true?"

"Because," she said, her voice like the announcement of a harsh winter on the Valen'Zal Mountains in the southern continent of Minbar, "The essence of it comes from the life-force of humans."

As realization dawned on him, two halves warred against themselves inside of him. One side debated that the woman was lying, that Sinoval was no more than a rogue, working on his own. He didn't even believe there was an actual serum. By Valen, the whole thing could be a lie.

But, the other side spoke the opposite. Why was she here? Surely the Grey Council was all-knowing. And yet, if they were, that would mean they knew about this, unless they weren't all-knowing. But, then again, she _was_ here.

And he followed the sounds of her footfalls into a room with a center light. And in that center light was Starkiller. He looked in horrified wonder at the proud man, kneeling on the floor, head bent down, bluish light cast him in an eerie shadow.

"I am sorry to keep you waiting," Jha'dur said, and Lennier saw electric currents strike Sheridan and wrapping around wrists and neck pull him into the air. He thrashed around and he saw a second set wrap up to grab his ankles.

"Now, tell me," Jha'dur said softly, "Where is the _Agamemnon_?"

And the human remained silent, twitching limply in the air. Jha'dur sighed and touched a button. The voltage increased. And Starkiller, the man who had murdered hundreds of Minbari, whose ship was a specter for his people, screamed.


	22. Eyes on the Man

**Chapter 22: Eyes on the Man**

"Are you sure you'll be fine?" Michael asked as they approached his house, "I can walk with you the rest of the way."

"What?" Walker laughed, "Are you dating me or something?"

"Well," Michael shrugged, "I'm just wanting to..."

"Don't worry Michael," Walker placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, "I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself."

Michael took a long look at his friend. Blood still trickled down his nose from the beating he had received but he knew there would be no arguing with him. Walker was just like him in that regard. Both were too stubborn for their own good.

"See you tomorrow then," Michael said, and Walker sent a little flick in his own way of saluting.

Walker turned and walked down the street and Michael sent one last glance his way, watching his friend take off into the night. With a shrug and taking comfort in his friend's ability to survive and fend for himself, he walked up the small steps to the door, unlocked the door and entered, closing the door behind him.

* * *

><p>The shuttle landed in the docking bay, and Laura was waiting at the receptions area with a small honor guard of two. She had only just received word of who it was that would be taking over the operations of Babylon 5.<p>

That was it. A name. There was little else that she could find out about the man. It was almost as if someone had erased him from existence, and she was by no means a novice when it came to digging information on somebody up.

And there, walking through the exit terminal, was the man, straight back, wavy hair and a scar down his right cheek. The new commander of Babylon 5.

"Colonel Ben Zayne," she saluted him, "Welcome to Babylon 5."

* * *

><p>It was only a mile or two to the hotel that he was staying at, so Walker took his time. New Geneva was a bustling metropolis in its own right by this point and time. A hundred thousand humans lived in the city and another twenty-three thousand aliens had made their homes among the humans. Even though there was a war between the Narn and Centauri that was still broiling throughout this part of the galaxy, it hadn't found its way near Epsilon 3, so they had no need to worry about it.<p>

He took in the lights and sounds of the city. A jazz club playing its music. An outdoor restaurant's patrons as they ate and conversed. A man using a public terminal to make a call.

He didn't know why he decided to. Everything told him not to. His experience had taught him to avoid it. But, that didn't stop him from entering the alleyway that was a shortcut to the hotel.

* * *

><p>Michael had been stunned by the news of his friend's death. His body had been found, beaten to death. His wife had tried to console him, but there was no consoling. If he had only tried harder, if he had forced himself on his friend. Surely he wouldn't be dead. Even when he had served a pallbearer and had attended the funeral, he still had been unable to reconcile himself on why this would happen to such a good and decent man.<p>

What was even sadder was the fact that there had been no family for Walker at his funeral. It was not by choice that none were there. They had all been killed by the war and Walker had been the sole survivor of his family. He had always had such bright plans for himself, of having a large family with an adoring wife. But, he had been killed before he had been able to pursue those plans.

* * *

><p>Lennier had watched horrified as fluids were drained from Sheridan's body and placed in a vial that Deathwalker had pulled from her robe. Sheridan had slumped to the floor and had been dragged off and Lennier could not help but watch as he was dragged away, pale and with bruises.<p>

"This, my dear Ranger," she replied, holding the vial as tenderly as a mother with her infant, "Is the elixir of immortality. One human can provide up to a dozen vials before they expire. Imagine it, one life for twelve. A good bargain."

Lennier had heard enough of this mad woman, and he turned to her and said slowly, "You are a monster."

"You're wrong," she shook her head, smiling a feline grin, "I am the savior of the Minbari. They shall call me blessed and shed from me the name of Deathwalker. How ironic don't you think? That I, who fell because of humans, will rise to the greatest heights by the slaughter of humans among those who slaughtered humans without any remorse."

* * *

><p>He had nearly cracked. He could feel his will had begun to crumble. The only thing that had prevented him from speaking was the pain. He had nearly betrayed his friends and comrades. David Corwin, Stephan Franklin, Fighter Squad leader Harriman Grey, he had nearly betrayed them all. He had come so close...<p>

His sobs raked him as he laid on the ground, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't go one more session. He'd betray everything if it simply meant and end. For nearly two months he had been here, and every day he had been able to think of his wife Anne, his father, and so many more.

But, today...he realized he couldn't remember them anymore. Everything was gone. It was all hopeless.

"What do you want, Captain?" Mr. Morden asked yet again, "Me and my associates can help you. Just tell me, what do you want?"

* * *

><p>"What do you want?"<p>

"To be left alone," Michael said, sitting at the bar.

"No, you don't think so," Bester said, sliding himself onto the stool next to him, and motioning to the barkeep said, "No more for him. But get me a Scotch."

"That'll be expensive," he said, wiping a cup, "Scotch is hard to find now-days."

Bester waved his hand and the man sat the glass down and grabbing a whole bottle sat it down in front of Bester. Then, as if he no longer could see them went about his business.

"Mundanes," Bester chuckled, "There will be a war one day between Telepaths and Normals. And I fear for the normals."

Michael angrily glared at Bester and grabbing him shook him viciously. "I'm trying to get drunk and forget about what happened!" he snapped.

"I know," Bester said, allowing Michael his frustration, "But believe me when I say that drinking away your life is not going to bring him back."

"But it was you who suggested I take him to the Mutai," he growled, roughly shoving him back into his seat, "And look what happened."

"I was under the impression it was safe," Bester assured him, "I had no idea that he'd be treated so rough. I didn't know it would happen."

Michael grunted noncommittally, "It doesn't matter does it?"

"These aliens and their allies are growing stronger in their influence over humanity," Bester argued, "The whole galaxy is mocking us Humans. Even sacred sports are no longer exempt from the violent discrimination that is shown us. Join me and together we'll defeat theses aliens and return humanity to its rightful place."

Michael stared at the countertop, lost in his own thoughts. How did it come so far and so deep? What would be the cost to get it all back?

"You know where to find me," Bester patted him on the shoulder, "When you've made a decision."

And he stood up and left the bar, carrying the bottle of scotch with him.e H


	23. And a Sky Full of Stars

**Chapter 23: And a Sky Full of Stars**

Jeffery Sinclair sat with legs drawn. For days he had been left alone. But, he knew he had to be alive. Virtual realties were reliant upon the health of the person they were attached to, but he was sure he'd be well out of shape when he finally got out of here. Three months had passed, and he doubted his body would even remember how to walk.

He had gone mad the first week he had been left by himself. He had screamed and stormed about his station of the mind. He had jumped off the catwalk over the Zocalo onto the ground below. He had slammed himself into walls. He had decided to roll the whole way down Green Sector. That had been really fun.

But, by week three, he had gone into a self-imposed routine. He'd wake up, shower and go for a run. He'd make sure the station was operational. He realized that the station must be his mind and if it fell into disrepair, it could only be bad for himself.

But, how long could a man go without any contact? Was it even possible to stay sane in such a situation? He remembered the story of Robinson Caruso, and his marooning for years. Was he like that man? Would he forget how to talk?

But here he sat, on top of the _Fresh Air_, overlooking the aeroponics. The whole area circled around the interior of this section, and he could see orchards, wheatfields, flower gardens and the lake. He had decided to call each thing by a new name. Takashima Gardens, Jack Orchards, Sinclair Lake. He had even decided to call the coffee bean plant he had found the Kylebean. He wondered if this non-regulations green was real or fictional. If he ever got back he'd have to see. If he ever got back...

"'ello Captain," the scarred man said as he walked behind him, "What are you doing here?"

"D-n you, Boggs," he snarled, "Leave me alone."

"Are you really sure," Boggs said with a malice-filled chuckle, his voice appearing to his left, then jumping to his right, "You've been alone for near three months now. And the time has come for you to reveal what you did that made the Minbari decide not to destroy us. As soon as you reveal to me this, you get to go back to _Babylon 5_."

Sinclair's danger senses pricked up at that. There would be no going back to Babylon 5. They'd kill him as soon as they were satisfied. And only problem was...he couldn't remember anything. And how he wished he knew.

_Sinclair took another quick look, and saw that between them and the fugitive were two piles of boxes. He motioned to Garibaldi and pointed out the boxes. Garibaldi understood and Jeff held up his hand. Then, he dived out into the open, away from cover. Two blasts shot past his face and back, and he dived for the first pile of boxes, which happened to be not only the closest but also the shorter of the two stacks. He slowly got on a knee and peering over the top was able to see the top of the man's head. He aimed and fired just above the hair on the man's head. The man flinched down, ducking._

_He never actually meant to hit the man. It however gave Garibaldi enough time to dash to the next pile of boxes before the man had time to recover. The man was an amateur, and the thing about amateurs is, is that you don't have to worry so much about what they will do. Then, Sinclair looked above and as the man sprang up to get another shot, he lifted the board gun and fired a single shot. The blast went right on target. The man dropped to the ground with a yelp of pain as he grabbed his shoulder. _

_"Get him now!" Sinclair shouted, and they both dived over the boxes, although in his case it was more of stumble through it. But, they hadn't gone two steps before a single shot was heard and they slowed to a cautious creep forward. Garibaldi risked a quick glance over, almost flinched back, but steadied himself._

_"He's dead," he said with a shake of his head, "Killed himself."_

_"Shame," Sinclair shook his head._

"What was that, Captain?" Boggs asked.

"Io during the early months of the War," he replied, "I was Security there..."

_"So," she said with a slight smile, "Commander Sinclair of Alpha Squadron. Where are you going to be off to next?"_

_He looked over at her, at the curly hair. At the long face. And he felt her desire to be there for him. But also her divided loyalties. Between him and her cargo running job. That was always going to be between them._

_"Haven't heard yet," he shook his head, "But, I'll miss you where ever I go."_

_"Ah," she shook her head, "Not as much as you tell me. You wouldn't be the same if you didn't do your military thing."_

_"You wouldn't care if I abandoned my post either," he smiled, "But I could never convince you to leave your job."_

_Carolyn shrugged. "Someone has got to pay the bills."_

_"I thought I made enough in the military to provide for both of us," he said with raised eyebrows._

"Who was that woman?" he asked, "An old lover perhaps?"

"Leave Carolyn out of this!" he snapped, "Don't you dare bring her up again."

"Why not?" Boggs asked.

Sinclair nearly choked as he said, "She died. Killed on Mars during the Battle of Mars."

"An attack that I personally fought in," Boggs growled, "And imagine it, the planet gets taken, the Minbari are preparing for another strike, and suddenly, they decide to end their war and give us peace. Why?"

Sinclair didn't know the answer. And nothing this mad man said would make a difference in it. He knew what he knew and he didn't what he didn't. No one could say otherwise.

"I don't know! Maybe the universe blinked," Sinclair snapped, jumping to his feet and turning on the man, "Maybe God changed his mind. All I know is we were given a second chance."

Boggs was silent for a second before he said, "I guess it would be easier if someone like yourself could work on the inside. Keep them from having to get their hands the rest of the way dirtier."

_"Your new assignment," the commander of the base said, handing him a packet of sealed orders, "Is to take charge of a new fighter wing we are organizing near Pluto."_

_Sinclair's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What?" _

_"Your orders are in the packet," the commander said, waving him to open and read them. _

_He slowly opened the orders and his eyes grew wide. He was to start from Pluto and head off to Epsilon 3. Alone. No escort. No help. Nothing._

_"These are legitimate orders?" he asked. _

_"They were given to me by the head of Earth Force Intelligence," the commander shrugged, "You will obey."_

_Sinclair nodded his head once. This was interesting indeed. He had just received the promotion to be head of Alpha Squadron. Now they wanted him to change posts that quickly? Very odd indeed._

Why were you sent to Epsilon 3? Did Boggs ask the question or not? Sinclair could no longer tell what was said out loud and what wasn't. What did you do there?

"The Centauri Emperor was considering giving us the planet and asked us to make sure it was habitable."

Did he really say that? Or was it simply a figment of his overstretched imagination?

"Where were you the forty-eight hours you were gone? What happened to you? Why did you betray Earth?"

"I didn't betray Earth!" he snapped, spinning to follow Boggs as he thoughtfully circled his chin with a finger, "I never did."

"Then why did they stop their war when we were almost as dead as the Dilgar?"

"I don't know why. And I wish to the Heavens that I knew."

_"It's a trap!" Commander Sinclair shouted from his Starfury. Hundreds, then thousands of ships had just dropped in out of hyperspace. The capitol ships were preceded by thousands of fighters. Even at a glance Sinclair knew they were outnumbered. They were going to die._

"We were beaten," Sinclair said softly. Wave after wave. There was no escape.

_Sinclair increased the speed to his fighter. His squadron had been shattered. One pilot had panicked and had tried to flee. It had been shot down before he had gotten one klick away. The Starfury screen had collapsed all around him, and he alone remained. Either direction he looked, all he could see was swarms of Minbari fighters plowing through the shattered remnants of his buddies. Sometimes, the Minbari weren't satisfied with the clean kill and so destroyed the floating rubble from the destroyed ships. _

_Ejected cockpits were shot down. He saw as he flew a helmet floating in space. His Starfury plowed through corpses and shattered fighters like so many pieces of rubble. Blood froze to the glass of his cockpit. He bowed his head and said a quick prayer. _

_"No no no!" he snarled, bringing his head up, rage filling him, "If I'm going down I'm taking the sons of bit-"_

_His words were lost as sparks leapt from his consol screen._

_There was nothing left to it. He was going to die. He knew that. But, he wasn't going to die without taking as many of the Boneheads as he could. He aimed straight for a Minbari cruiser as it was coming past him. They fired a shot at him, and although being a near miss, it knocked all power out. And left him floating, slowly spinning in the vacuum of space. And he was helpless to stop the Minbari advance on his homeworld._

"So," Boggs said with a grim expression, "You tried to ram them?"

"And I failed. That was the last thing I remember," he sighed.

Boggs got closer to him and with a wave of his hand stars exploded in Sinclair's eyes and he was thrown to the ground, electric charges zooming through his body. He thrashed around in pain as the charges seemed to set his very flesh on fire.

And then, something exploded in his mind.

_Sinclair snapped awake, his head pounding like a Drazi brothel on Saturday night. A fighter had blazed past his ship so close that it had clipped his fighter and he had smacked his head against his helmet. Blood was smeared on the visor. He pulled the helmet off, and moving as he felt through water whipped away the blood. _

_"Computer," he said, as he put the helmet back on over his head, "How long was I unconscious?"_

_"30 minutes," the computer reported._

_30 minutes. "Can we make it to the jump gate?" he asked._

_"Insufficient power."_

_"Alright," he muttered, "Can we make it to an enemy cruiser and attack it?"_

_"Insufficient power to fire weapons."_

_"Divert as much power as possible to the engines," he ordered, "Put us on a collision course."_

_"Confirmed."_

"What?" Sinclair said, propping himself up as the memory faded, "What was that?"

"The incredible thing about pain is it allows the mind absolute clarity," Boggs smiled, "Would you like to know more? Let's find out Cap." Boggs walked up to his face, mere inches from him, "Let us peel away the lies that you have created. Let us peel the veil of forgetfulness you've drawn up. Don't you want to know what happened? For yourself."

"Yes," Sinclair said, for once fort-eight hours could come back to him. He could know what happened at the Battle of the Line.

_The Starfury flew through space, and Sinclair watched as pieces of floating wreckage flew into each other and as fire flew from the ships only to be snuffed out by the vacuum of space. Explosions erupted as munitions exploded from contact or the loss of pressure. _

_And bodies. So many bodies. Sinclair had never seen so many bodies. They were not all human, but they were almost all human. Frozen in place by the subzero temperatures of space. One ships hulls ruptured as the stress was too much, and he watched a woman sucked out into space and watched as she fought for breath, unable to move and as he flew past saw her eyeballs freeze. _

_But he was so close. He was getting closer and closer to a mother ship. He aimed himself towards the engines. If he could fly into them, he could perhaps blow out an entire rear compartment of the ship. Maybe cause a cascade reaction that would blow the entire ship._

_And then, white-blue beams flew out and struck his fighter and all power was lost and Sinclair screamed as he was slowly dragged towards an opening hanger bay door._

"I have to admit Sinclair," Boggs said, "You are a very persistent man. Still trying to ram the ship? You have an over developed sense of revenge."

Sinclair did not notice what Boggs had said. He was enthralled by this memory, suppressed for so many years. He would finally find out what had happened.

_Tied down to a bed or was it a sled? it didn't really matter though. He was still being dragged against his will towards an area. They were talking in Minbari. He couldn't tell anything that was happening._

_The images were blurred, and he knew he had been knocked out. Next thing he knew, he was tied up onto a triangle, in an area of grey figures that surrounded him. Deep hoods were drawn over their heads and he heard what sounded like an argument going on. But, it didn't stop a figure from walking up to him and holding up a small triangle device with what looked like a memory chip and it glowed._

_"Valen..."_

Suddenly, the memory stopped and Sinclair looked at the figure before him who was frozen. He turned to each person in turn, and saw them all frozen in motion. And then he turned, and looked at Boggs who stood off to the side. And...he was also frozen.

"Hello, Jeff," a voice that sounded like his own said, and he turned. And he saw...a Minbari walking towards him.

"What?" Sinclair asked, looking at this figure in wonder, "Who are you?"

"I am Valen."


	24. Wisdom of Mentors

**Chapter 24: Wisdom of Mentors**

"Commander Corwin," the current head of Security said, "She's awake. Want to come down here?"

Commander David Corwin's head was hung low, his whole torso bent over. His legs were spread and his arms were draped over them. He had never meant to leave Captain Sheridan behind. He didn't want to leave him. Zarges was a terrible place. Always had been.

He hadn't much cared about Keffler. An arrogant fool. But, what about Doctor Franklin? Sure, a little OCD at times, but he wasn't too bad a guy to be around. If only he had been able to save them.

No, no time to think of such things. He looked up at the view screen and raising up his hand tapped the communications button.

"I'll be down in a minute."

* * *

><p><em>Draal sat across the floor from her, hands held out to his side in silent meditation. She had long hair then, before she had undergone the purifications ritual, before she had joined the Grey Council, before the War.<em>

_"You aren't sitting still Delenn," he chided her, not opening his eyes, "You are supposed to be silently meditating."_

_"I am sorry," she said, bowing her head and trying to force herself to sit still, "I really am."_

_Draal shrugged, "Can't lie to me Delenn. You're getting very tired of this meditating. Aren't you?"_

_"I've never had a knack for it," she finally admitted._

_"Hmmm..." Draal chuckled to himself. He opened his eyes and looked at Delenn. She wasn't beautiful by any stretch of Minbari standards for such things, but he loved her all the same. He was a friend of her father's and as such a friend of hers. And when her father had given him the opportunity to train her in the ways of Temple and the religious castes rituals, he had been proud to do so._

_"Have you had the dream again?" he finally asked._

_"Yes," she nodded, "The One came to me last night. He's just been accepted into his world's military Academy. I'm afraid for him."_

_Draal had to laugh. "This man is nothing more than an element of dreams. How can you fear for something that isn't even real?"_

_Delenn grew angry, like she always did when the One was dismissed so casually. "He's real to me!" she snapped and rising to her feet turned and walked out on Draal._

* * *

><p>"I will tell you nothing," Delenn spat, a thick wad of spittle flying onto the ground in front of the human commander, "I know nothing of where Starkiller is."<p>

"You are Grey Council," Corwin stared at the bald, bone-headed Minbari strapped to the chair in front of him, "You have access to all the data files of the Minbari. Surely you know where he is."

Delenn raised her eyebrows and replied mockingly, "Minbari do not lie."

"Nor do they tell the whole truth," Corwin said, shaking his head and walking up close to her bent down and whispered, "And I've captured and killed enough Minbari to know the real truth."

Delenn glared up at him. How dare this human do this to her? She was Satai. Above all this. She turned her head and looked away, refusing to look at him. She heard him sigh and walking away heard the door open.

"Don't do any permanent damage," he replied, and the door hand't closed when an explosion of stars erupted in her head.

"What do you want, Captain?" Mr. Morden asked again.

"This is a stupid conversation," Sheridan muttered.

"It is indeed. What do you want?"

The question. Again the question. All night long he had listened to the question. The man said he couldn't leave until an answer was given. Sheridan wanted to sleep. That's all he wanted.

"I want to go to sleep," he whimpered.

"Really?" Morden pressed, "Is that really all you want?"

That's when it finally exploded. He wasn't sure how it happened, but he just started speaking.

"What do I want?" he asked, turning from his curled up position on the floor to look at this strange man, "Do you really want to know? I want to find out where these d-n Minbari have taken Stephan."

"What do you want?"

"I want to get us off this ship!"

"What do you want?"

"I want to find out who it was that gave away my position!"

"What do you want?"

"I want to retake our place in the Galaxy. I want us to become the lions were once were. I want to be able to return home, see my wife and hope against hope she's still alive. I want the Minbari utterly destroyed and their worlds left in ruin. I want Humanity to command the Galaxy! I want a Terran empire that everyone respects. I want Earth back! Does that answer your question, _Mr. Morden_?"

Morden was silent for a few seconds. Digesting his words no doubt. Sheridan threw his body into facing away from him and fell asleep.

"Yes. I think it does."

* * *

><p>"Who are you? What do you want?"<p>

"You will find those to be the two most important and difficult questions to answer Jeff."

"How do you know who I am?"

"Please," Valen laughed, his arms slid into the sleeves of his white and tan robes, making him look like a monk of some kind, "I know everything about you. And in time, you will learn everything about me."

Sinclair frowned. "I do not understand."

"Understanding," Valen scoffed, "What is understanding? A three-edged sword. One to defend, one to attack, and one to remain still."

Sinclair really didn't know if he should take this man seriously. Who was he and why was he in his mind? And why did he feel he should know who he was? Suddenly he became aware that Valen was still staring at him.

"I'll take your word for it," he finally conceded, "You are Minbari?"

A small smile. "Yes...and no."

A pause. "I'll take your word for that too." Another hesitation. "What is this?"

"A virtual reality created in your mind."

"Smart-aleck," he rolled his eyes, "I know where we are. But why has it all paused? And where did you come from? I don't remember seeing you in the figures in Grey."

"Your powers of observation are not in question Jeff," Valen continued his small smile, "And yes, this is all real. But, I am not a memory...as much as your understanding permits."

He had to frown. So...Valen wasn't a memory. What was he then? Had he hacked into the virtual reality by another means? Minbari were advanced, were they that advanced?

"Did you hack into this reality?" he asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

Valen laughed aloud and pulling a hand from out of the sleeve set it on his shoulder and turning him gently pulled him along.

"No, I have always been here you could say. Since before your memories were formed I was here. We were intimate before you entered the womb. I've known you since before you were conceived."

"Are you God?" Sinclair finally ventured wincing as the thought occurred, "I'd really hate if that was the case."

"In a way, I am God," Valen said then laughed again at the visible sign of discomfort, "But not your God."

"Then what are you?" Sinclair pushed, hating these cryptic answers, "And can you help me?"

"I have a power to release you from these bonds," Valen replied, "I am the future, and the past and the present. We will meet again one day, Jeffery Sinclair. But we shall not meet again in this form. But, too much has already been lost, so much changed. You must promise me, do not let _Babylon 5_ fall before the arrival of the One that Will Be."

"I do not-"

"Promise me!"

Jeffery frowned. "Alright," he said, "I promise."

Valen let a smile of relief cross his face. And then he held up his hands in the Minbari triangle of respect, and he was gone. And the vision was gone.

And his eyes snapped awake. And the lights burned his eyes.


	25. The Heart of the Machine

**Chapter 25: Heart of the Machine**

Varn was dying. He knew he was dying. There was not much time. Long he had held the Machine. Nearly a hundred years. He had seen the comings and goings of great empires and small principalities. Small men with delusions of greatness and great men who did not see their own worth.

Zathras looked up at him and clicked his tongue in his wierd way.

"Must be finding new Guardian," he held up a finger and waged it at the body in there, "Varn be putting off long time. No time now. Zathras but insisting this time. Must find new person now. Or the whole planet will die."

And on the planet of great stability, the ground shook.

* * *

><p>The people of New Geneva were shaken awake by something no child born within the past ten years on the planet had ever experienced, and only those who were teenagers or were middle-aged or elderly had ever felt. Tremors, also known as earthquakes shook the city. It was not nearly powerful enough to do any damage. But they were awoken by it.<p>

Aldous Gajic was one such person who was awaken by the tremors. But he looked up with wonder at the figure that stood before him.

"Help me..." the alien in front of him said, "Please help."

* * *

><p>Draal was one of the few Minbari who had ever visited Epsilon 3. The humans were generally not happy to see him, but they kept their distance, not wanting to be near him and start another war. And as the tremor ran through the ground, he wondered at the irony of it. How fitting the planet where the humans lived on described his own people.<p>

Where had they gone so wrong? They were once an enlightened race of revered poets, honorable warriors, and fine builders. They had uttered such marvelous prayers, and sang their songs to Valen, who blessed them for their worthiness. They had honed their skills in the defense of life and had been strengthened. Buildings, great and small were built, and each was content with what they had got and the builders were inspired to greater heights through each new accomplishment.

But where was Bramner, who wept as his fleet tore Earth piece by piece apart. Where now was Mallanar, who stood amongst the poor and lifted them up through his words of wisdom. When would the likes of Shal'makar whose songs seemed to give life to the winds of Yedor itself return.

Was it the war that had changed his people? Was it the death of Dukhat? Was it the blood of billions that changed them, tainted their souls?

He had always been against the war. Humanity was young. They were bound to make mistakes. But where had the willingness to spare gone? What did those brutal mass executions come from? Why did the poets sit still at recitals, looking as if they were dazed? Why were the prayers to Valen no longer lifted upwards to him?

There was no need for him anymore in the world of the Minbari, who no longer acted as such. A darkness was passing. A shadow was growing. He had left the growing spiral to apathy and headed towards the sea of stars. Somewhere he would be needed. Then, as he walked, he heard him. Like a memory long ago lost.

"Help me...Draal. Help me..."

* * *

><p>"What the H-"<p>

Boggs never got a chance to finish his cry for help. Sinclair's arms shook as he rose them. They were unused to working after such a long rest. But, in a strength born from desperation he smashed into the device that covered Boggs shoulder, and Boggs screamed as blood erupted from where the pieces of metal tore into his flesh and the electrical charges tore into his eyes, frying his synapses.

Sinclair fought his body's numbness and weariness as he forced his other arm free and pulled apart the binds that held his legs. How he managed to escape he had no idea. He shouldn't have been able to move. And the filthiness and stink that rose from him could only tell him they had done little for his hygiene. Maybe it was Valen giving him a hand. All he knew was he had to get away. He pushed himself up and his legs gave out and fell onto the floor, the soiled and crusted clothing from bodily waste and sweat cracking as it was shifted about.

"Where you going Sinclair?" a voice asked softly, and he brought his head up and looked at a man whose soul was as dead as his emotions.

* * *

><p>Aldous walked with his robes draped over his shoulder, his staff held high. He followed the sounds of the voice, towards the great road that lead into the crevice. And walking there as well was a Minbari. They arrived at the same time at the top of the descent and looked at each other.<p>

"A true seeker," Draal said.

"You heard the call?" Aldous asked.

"I did," he nodded, "Let us go down and see what can be found."

* * *

><p>The man was known as Sniper, although his real name was Paul Perri. He had killed Minbari mercilessly, ruthlessly, efficiently. He once had taken seven days to kill a Minbari. It had been glorious to behold. He had used strings to cut off the fingers, toes, ankles and so forth. Continually he had been sent behind enemy lines during the war. He had been ripe for being grabbed by Nightwatch.<p>

But...he forgot the first rule of the warrior.

Never underestimate your opponent.

Even one that has been in a virtual reality and hasn't used his muscles in three months and fighting muscle atrophy.

Sinclair had tried to rise and he had moved close, and he kicked Sinclair to the ground, overturning the table. Again and again he had kicked. Sinclair's body seemed to bend into a croissant with each succeeding blow to his midsection. But, he didn't think about the fact that a needle had been on the table, along with many other doctors instruments. And when the needle of nearly gone but not completely gone anesthesia jammed into his knee, he felt his knee give way as it fell asleep.

"Putmeunderforthreemonths," Sinclair snarled, but with dry mouth he couldn't understand what he said, "Yousonofabit-!"

And Sinclair grabbed a small pair of scissors from the floor and began to stab over and over again Sniper, and Sniper felt his body falling asleep and was unable to protect himself.

* * *

><p>Susanna Luchenko strode down the tunnels of the subway, one of the three that they had managed to construct during their stay here. Another tremor ran through the ground as she and her guards walked towards the Presidential subway car that ran straight to her home at the Executive Mansion in Nova Moscow.<p>

When the planet was being colonized, three cities had been constructed. New Geneva being one, which would act as the governmental center here. Second Rome; there was no point of having humanity without a Rome. And Nova Moscow, where they had decided the Executive Mansion should be, so if there was ever a case where the capitol was bombed, the President might have a chance of escaping, or if the Executive Mansion should be bombed, they couldn't take out the government all at one time.

William Clark was walking by her, a loathsome man if she ever knew one. And currently he was going on about some people he had met.

"They have power," he said, "More than enough to spare. They can help us rebuild Susanna. I have heard they have whole fleets just waiting to give us a hand."

"William," she sighed, the car doors opening as she approached, "The problem is you have given me no name for this race, or even told me who their ambassador is. You've only heard of this power and numbers but not actually seen any of it. Why should I trust such people?"

"Give them a chance to tell you their side of the story," Clark pressed, "I am sure they can convince you of their good intentions. They already made contact with some of our people."

Luchenko stopped just inside the car and looked back. Clark seemed most eager. Not that she could exactly turn down aid from any allies. With the war with the Narns not going so well, she needed all the help she could get.

"Fine," she muttered, "You can set up a meeting with them."

"Thank you," he nodded his head, "Thank you very much."

"Don't thank me just yet," she replied as the doors slid shut and the subway car shot off into the distance, down the tracks to Nova Moscow.


	26. The Third Principle

**Chapter 26: The Third Principle**

There are three principles of sentient life. The first the capacity to learn. If one cannot learn, how can it be sentient? The second is the capacity to reason. A dumb animal cannot reason, setting it apart from those that can reason between the choices provided it. And the third principle is the ability to self-sacrifice. If one can override the rules of fight and flight to sacrifice themselves for a cause, a friend, a loved one, that is in itself the highest form of sentient life.

So why did the Machine choose Draal and Aldous Gajic? Varn, the Guardian did not choose them. But the Machine, that great machine of self-awareness and knowledge had chosen them. And the Machine did not choose lightly.

One was a Minbari. A teacher who had spent his entire life cultivating ideas within others and helping them reach their full potential to do good. Even the ones like Delenn that had made terrible mistakes of passion he did not consider a failure. He was looking for purpose that was no lost and wanted only to help.

The other was a human. An accountant for an Earth mega-corporation, the death of his family had shattered his confidence. The numbers did not add up anymore. But, a man had come to him, the last of his order, and had told him he was a man of infinite promise. He now was the last, not only of an order but also those who looked for the relic of a bygone era, where man still looked to the stars and saw the hands of Deity at work.

But, they were not alone. A man, a man of compassion, who had spent his entire life building structures and helping those in need. A man who had been beaten down his entire life. A man named Thomas, but remembered only as Jinxo followed them, the light of those two men drawing him from his run-down apartment.

And behind them walked Alfred Bester and his partner, the long brown-haired Miss Samantha Kelsey, who had been ordered to the site after the tremors began. Earth Force wanted the secrets of the underworld of Epsilon 3, ever more so since Garibaldi's run-in with the holographic guardian. They watched for a sign of admittance and when they saw the group begin their long descent took it upon themselves to follow them down.

* * *

><p>Delenn's head snapped back as the guard hit her again. He was efficient. He did not just mindlessly keep hitting her in rapid succession. But, he was slow, hitting her once and giving sometime between each hit. She might have been no warrior, but she had learned how to block out pain. But, this method made it harder to block each blow.<p>

"All we want to know is what you've done with Captain Sheridan," the human soldier said, watching as the guard circled behind her, "That's all we need to know and we can end your pain."

She pursed her lips and said nothing. She didn't see his nod. But he felt the pain exploding between her shoulder blades. How this was becoming most difficult to bear!

* * *

><p>Lennier could not meditate. Voices spoke in the dark corners of his mind. Demanding him to choose between the morally correct thing and the thing most convenient. He paced around his room in circles with the lights off. His eyes had grown accustomed to the dark and could make out small details.<p>

_I cannot just let this keep going on_, he thought to himself, _Deathwalker is an evil person. And if Sinoval has truly allied himself with her, then he has fallen._

_What does it matter who hurts the human. He is Starkiller! A butcher. A man without passion._

_But that's not what I saw in him. I have talked with him, spent time with him. He is no heartless. He has feelings. He's..._

_Do you _sympathizer_ with him? Lennier, he is a human! His people killed DUkhat when he went to extend a hand of friendship._

_He's a sentient being. And as a Ranger, we were taught that all life is sacred and should not be so brutishly punished and tormented. Has he not paid the price for his misdeeds?_

_You are a Ranger Lennier. Taught to protect your own people. Not him._

Lennier walked to the door and it slid open. He was going to check up on the human doctor. At least his mind would be cleared by being busy.

"Yes, Mr. Lennier," Morden said from the closet he hide in, holding up the device that had spoken in Lennier's mind, "You will help us."

* * *

><p>"I do not understand, Laurel," Colonel Ben Zayne said, "So what if the planet is having tremors. It's not our problem."<p>

How she hated being called Laurel. The last person who had called her that had been killed during the Bread Riots on Epsilon 3. She preferred Laura. It was more fitting.

"It is our problem if the planet explodes," she replied, "Sir, the planet has not had a single tremor since we arrived. And now it's happening all over the place."

Ben Zayne laughed as he looked down at the planet from where he sat at his station. "Look down there," he laughed, "Epsilon 3 is clear down there. We are up here. There is no way we can be killed here."

"But-" Takashima said but Ben Zayne held up a hand.

"That will be all, Commander," he dismissed her, and she turned on her heel and marched out of the door.

* * *

><p>It was a maze underneath the planet. One could only assume it was to keep intruders from getting to the heart of the planet. But, the vision had come and shown the two seekers the way, and the others had followed the two men's lead. Around a hallway they turned and they were met by a jittery little creature that kept clicking to himself.<p>

"Good good," the odd creature said, looking up at them, "There be no time. Zathras warned Varn but he would not listen until almost too late. You must hurry or all will die. Planet go boom. Humans destroyed. Zathras no like humans destroyed. Follow Zathras. Everyone follow Zathras. Yes, yes."

And they followed him as he kept motioning with his hand for them to come. And at long last, they arrived at the heart of the machine.

"You have come..." Varn said, nodding down to them, "Thank you."

* * *

><p>Lennier walked into the cell where the human doctor would be. And he stopped in horror as he watched two warriors pummel him. They cursed him and stamped on him, and despite his coma, they acted as if he could fight back. Almost as if they were practicing on him.<p>

"In Valen's name," Lennier whispered at the brutality on the defenseless human, "What are you two warriors doing?"

"What does it look like Ranger?" one of them sneered, "We must keep our skills honed for the next war with the humans."

"He is a healer," Lennier replied, staring wide-eyed at them, "There is no honor is attacking a man who vows to heal and not destroy."

"Humans are beasts and will be treated as nothing more," the Warrior spat and drew a knife, "I will make him bleed."

"In Valen's Name you will not touch him!" he snarled and they both looked at him and laughed.

"What will you do?" the other warrior asked, "Kill us?"

"No Minbari has killed another in over a thousand years," the first Minbari grinned, "Will you?"

"I have no need to hurt you," Lennier reached his hand in his rangers smock and pulled out from a pocket a small canister. He held it out to the side and shook it and long ends popped out.

"There is no honor in this Ranger," one of them shouted, pulling a blaster from his own pocket, "We must not be enemies."

"I do not mean anything personal by this," Lennier spun the pike around and gripped it and pressed it to his side, leaning on his front leg, "But I will not let you dishonor our most hallowed traditions of fair treatment."

One of them roared and charged him and his pike whipped around, connecting with his wrist between the joints that connected the hand to the arm and he heard a pop as the hand popped out of place and he dropped his weapon. Lennier swept the pike backwards and down, and catching a foot swept it up and as the warrior rose into the air he placed it above his stomach and flung him to the ground with all the force he could muster.

The second warrior fired off two shots from his blaster which he avoided with quick dodges and a spinning motion through the air. As he was landing, he came down right in front of the Minbari and hit the joint between the shoulder and arm and dislocated his arm. The blaster dropped to the ground and with a grunt of pain the warrior back up, giving himself room to swing his other hand. Lennier swung his fighting pike and it connected with the Warriors hand, breaking his knuckles.

Lennier jumped up in the air and spinning around roundhouse kicked him and the warrior stumbled, and collapsed to the floor, knocked out. The first warrior was picking himself off the ground and Lennier reversed his grip, and the back of the pike struck the Minbari between the eyes and laid him out cold too.

* * *

><p>Varn slumped out of the slot and fell to the ground, being caught just in time by Aldous who had stepped closer to him. He looked up, his eyes glazing.<p>

"One of you must enter the Machine," Varn said slowly, "Or you will all die."

The planet trembled harder than it ever had and rocks cracked on the side of the wall. Zathras hurried up to the machine's plug-in and began to recalibrate system to allow for a new Guardian to enter and be joined together.

"Which one of us should enter the Machine?" Aldous asked.

"I'll do it," a voice from behind the both of them said and it was only now they noticed Thomas.

"Were you called?" Draal asked, looking at him.

Thomas shook his head. "No, but I realize whoever gets in there probably has to stay there until they die. And well, I don't have anything else going on to look forward to. So I'll go in there and take control. Save everyone else."

Aldous smiled sadly. "There we have it. A man of infinite goodness."

Thomas did not wait before he started walking over to the Machine. And he hadn't even gone far before the PPG blast tore through the air of the room and seared into his back and laid him out on the ground.

"I don't think so," Bester said, stepping out of the shadows, "This is the property of the Human Remnant, and if anyone is going in there, it'll be a member of Psi-Corps."


	27. The Rift of Time

**Chapter 27: The Rift of Time**

Sinclair walked out into a hallway, his legs slowly getting used to having to move after long months of in use. His hands grabbed hold of packages and crates that were still wrapped in industrial Ceram wrap, his weak fingers no really holding on except by the sticky nature of such wrap. All he knew was he had to get out of this place.

But where was he? The passageways looked familiar to _Babylon 5_, but he knew his station, and this most certainly was not his station. This place looked like it had either just been constructed or abandoned right after the station had went online.

Then, there was a flash in his mind and he was gone.

* * *

><p>He snapped awake, his eyes darting back and forth. Where was he? The roof...the windows...the flowers on the window seal. This couldn't be. Surely it wasn't. He raised himself up in the bed, looking at the red and pink covers.<p>

Frowning, he threw the covers back and stood up, in only his underwear and the door to the bathroom opened and out stepped Catherine Sakai. Tying up a towel around her wet hair.

"About time you woke up Jeff," she looked up and smiled, "I thought you weren't going to ever get up."

Sinclair frowned. This was nearly twelve years ago...before he met Carolyn. The day Catherine told him she couldn't stay there anymore. With him.

"I-"

* * *

><p>There was another flash in his mind, and he was back on the station, and at once he knew where he was.<p>

"Babylon 4?" he muttered, "This whole area was quarantined off. Why would they place me here?"

_Duh. For that reason. You must get going Jeff, or you won't be going anywhere._

* * *

><p>"One more minute," Starkiller moaned from where he lay, "Just one more minute. I need to sleep."<p>

He had spoken in response to the sound of the cell door opening and what sounded like a heavy body hitting the floor. He kept his eyes closed, and resisted the shaking of a hand that was trying to rouse him.

"Get up," that Ranger person, Lennier breathed into his ear, "We are leaving this place."

Sheridan grunted, "Why should I? Aren't you just going to lead me back to being tortured Lennier?"

"If you do not move at once," Lennier hissed, "You will be found, and you will be killed during the next interrogation."

* * *

><p>He had to sit. He just had to. His body collapsed onto the floor, his body deciding it had moved more than it needed to. And so he laid stretched out, his body having given up the fight.<p>

"You must be getting up," a voice said to him, and two cloth gloved hands grabbed him and pulled him up, "You cannot be being here. The One said this place for big war. We follow the one. But, no one from this time can be with us. Or else, they die. Zathras warned this might happen. Time flashes not so stable as should be. But no one ever listens to poor Zathras."

The creature continued its jabbering as it carried him forth towards the docking bay. Sounds of PPG fire was heard in the hallways and he tried to turn his head. They were reaching a juncture between two hallways, where they intersected. He spotted himself, a much older version of himself running down the hallway, followed by Catherine, and Garibaldi. Garibaldi spotted him, slowed a second and blinked. Then shrugging he turned around to shoot off a blast at...Laura and several Earth Force personal that were chasing him.

And behind all them was a creature that was small with whiskers on the side of his face and a coat that looked like racoon tails were sown into it dropping from the ceiling. He turned to them and held up a finger to shush them and followed, a small round device in his hand.

"What's that?" Sinclair asked, turning to the creature that was carrying him.

"Uhhhh..." Zathras shrugged, "Do not know...cannot tell...perhaps one day Zathras knows. But until that day, Zathras carry you to shuttle."

Sinclair shrugged. Whatever. As long as he got off the station.

* * *

><p>Lennier had chosen a route that while it seemed long to Sheridan, his legs tired from the continual torture he had received, it was nothing he couldn't handle. Especially since he seemed quite concerned about trying not to get caught. They were approaching a hallway when they heard voices coming from the other direction.<p>

Lennier held up his hand and put Franklin on the ground. If he was going to have to fight, might as well. Two priests were walking down the hallway, talking to each other, taking no notice of the three people in the hallway. They reached a corner and were turning when one of them looked up and spotted them.

His eyes grew wide and Lennier's fingers tightened their grip on his pike, when the Priestlings head twisted violently to the side and he fell dead. The other Priest turned to flee from the scene when blood erupted from his chest as if he had been stabbed. The Priest fell to the ground, dead.

"What was that?" Sheridan asked.

Lennier blinked at the carnage wrought by an invisible assailant. "I have no idea," he whispered, "But we better be leaving soon."

"Agreed," Sheridan said, and Lennier picked up Franklin under his arm and they set off at a run down to the hanger.

* * *

><p>"Miss Kelsey," Bester said, smiling up at her, PPG pointed at the group of mundanes, "Please take control of the Machine. Let us see how much power it has. Clearly it is linked to the planet itself."<p>

Kelsey began to walk forward. "With pleasure sir."

"No!" Varn exclaimed, pushing himself up and clutching at her, "It...is...not...for you."

Another blast from the PPG hit him in center of his chest and he slumped dead. Bester glanced between the gathered group. At last they'd be able to see the triumph of telepaths over them. They could do nothing. Their minds were laid bare before him.

The human was seeking for the Holy Grail and hoped this Machine would help him find it. The Minbari was lost and seeking purpose. And the strange creature...he had too jumbled of thoughts for it to be any consequence to what would happen.

To sum it all up in a single word: pathetic.

But...at the same time... There was always the chance that this Machine might be picky. And Bester was too important a person to get rejected. Who knew what it might do if he wasn't a correct candidate.

Miss Kelsey stuck an arm through one slot and then stuck the other in. As she settled into it, wires drove into her and she gasped in pain and bewilderment as her mind began to be touched and probed by the Machine. For a few seconds they all watched her, all with a grim hope. One to have her succeed, and others for her to fail. A look of satisfaction and wonder came upon her and she turned to Bester and smiled.

"I have control, and it is beautiful."


	28. Legacies and Voices in the Wilderness

**Chapter 28: Legacies and Voices in the Wilderness**

War. A harrowing experience. Whatever was happening on Epsilon 3, it had nothing to do with Quadrant 37. And it wasn't every day one faced off against Narn shock troops. Heavy assault PPG rifles called "Auricons" sputtered as they threw charges into the Narns, who in their dark leather uniforms charged with rifles in hand and drawn swords. Dozens fell every minute, but they kept on coming, and the lines were buckling under the pressure.

"Thunder Brigade to Command. Narns breaking through our left flank. Pulling back to secondary positions."

"Negative Thunder Brigade. Hold your position. You cannot retreat."

"Up yours, Command. We can't hold against these Narns."

"Watch your mouth Thunder. You must hold there. Our heavy artillery isn't in position yet and if you fall back it compromises the full line. And the Centauri Imperial Second Division hasn't yet entrenched. You must hold."

Smashing the off switch with his hands, he looked up. Major Krantz looked at his forces as they were decimated by the Narn shock troops. Hand to hand was all around him, and he knew there was no way out. They could not escape and his men were dying. Narns were literally tearing his men apart.

"There's nothing left," he said to himself and placing the pistol to his head pulled the trigger.

* * *

><p>The power...it was surging through her. She could touch every mind and every heart in a way she never could have imagined. The very insects she could feel with her mind. This Machine was power. And that power was hers. And the laughter poured from her mouth.<p>

"This is a power far beyond anything you are worthy of possessing," the Minbari said, taking no notice of Bester but glaring up at her, "You are not worthy."

"And what could any of you know of what she is worthy to have?" Bester smiled like a Cheshire cat, "You are the ones not worthy. You are not even human. What could you know of being worthy?"

"I understand the motives of the heart," he replied, Aldous nodding his agreement.

"The Machine is meant to be given to those who only seek the welfare of others and not the petty jealousies of murders or tyrants," the Grail seeker replied.

"And you think the Minbari is clean of murder?" Bester smirked, "He's a Minbari. His ledger, the whole race's ledger is dripping red. We strive to protect the remnants of humanity. All you want the Machine for is to find a piece of lost pottery of a supposed Messiah."

"One does not judge a man by the acts of his group," Aldous responded with a sad shake of the head, "Or else we all would be guilty of the actions of the few lunatics or crazed assassins that steal the life from everything around them in fits of pettiness."

Kelsey listened to them bicker about worthiness and smiled. She had once been asked a question. It was a simple question. What did she want? Her answer was simple. Power and revenge. Bester had stolen everything from her. He was the Psi-Corp agent that found her, took her away from her infant child. Humanity had betrayed her by being destroyed, and the Minbari were responsible for the foul deed. She could use this power to make them pay. And her masters had given her the chance she needed to exact her revenge.

"I really have no time for this foolishness," Bester rolled his eyes, "I have a race to-"

He gasped as his throat began to ever slowly close and the veins began to heat up.

* * *

><p>The Machine was complete. A century of labor and struggle had lead to it finally being built. It had been the Vindrizi who had first lobbied the idea for the Great Machine, a place of infinite learning and infinite power. The Vorlons had been the first to agree to build it, along with the Walkers who felt it their duty to make sure the Vorlons could not steal all the credit for it. So, the three races had built it, and now they looked on it with satisfaction. But, they knew that precautions would have to be taken to prevent the users from fulfilling the purposes of the wicked with it.<p>

And the greatest of the three went to it, and implanted one of their race into it, and it taught the Machine what was right and wrong. Showed not only by words but by his deeds. And who better to teach it then the Vindrizi, who even though they were a dying race knew all about the consequences for choices good and bad and their only hope for survival being the creation of symbiotic beings they could infuse in others to carry out their legacy of records keeping. And the Machine took the lessons and learned it, and the greatest lesson of all had been learned.

The lesson was simple. It is better that one man should perish, than a whole nation should suffer by their actions.

And as Miss Samantha Kelsey began to exact her revenge, the lessons were beginning to come alive once again. And the Great Machine would take its own action against the owner.

* * *

><p>Bester collapsed to the floor as his jaw shattered, screaming in pain as one by one his pores began to ooze drops of blood, the capillaries one by one bursting. He could not speak because of his jaw being broken, but in his mind he screamed at her to stop. Why was she doing this? Why did she take such vicious actions against him who had taught her so much?<p>

"I had a son of adored me and a husband that worshipped the ground I walked on," she said, her holographic self which she had just discovered marching towards him, walking past the astonished men who cringed in their places, "I joined the Corps, despite my feelings to the contrary. And then...they were both killed in an accident. Do you remember? A fishing accident. But, did you think you so protected that I couldn't slip into your mind as you slept? I know you killed them, as you have killed a hundred more like them, to further your own goals."

Bester squirmed on the ground, his hands reaching up to his face. How he would have clawed himself if his fingers hadn't of started to snap, one by one. Then his toes began to break. One by one.

"Remember the old saying?" she asked, swinging a hand through the air and tossing him against a wall, "Hell hath no wrath like a woman's scorn? Well...I'll send you to Hell."

She used her newfound powers to thrust him into the wall and drag him up, scrapping away skin and tearing cloth and leather as she raised him. And then he struck.

Aldous rose up and swinging his staff came rushing at her body in its slot. The staff came down but he had misjudged his aim and instead of striking her on top the head hit the metal casing that surrounded the head. She reacted even as he drew his staff back to strike a second time. An electrical charge surged down his body and he stood there, the holy man frying. The Minbari and creature could see his bones as the blue currents of electricity lit him up. And then, with a popping sound, the body exploded in a dark cloud of ash.

"Let that be a lesson to you Minbari," she snarled, "Of how powerful I am. You cannot hurt me. I am the Machine!"

Draal looked not at her holographic self but watched the body in the Machine. He was by no means into Human women, he was after-all an old man and sure, they might be pretty and all that but they weren't Minbari.

As Kelsey continued her holographic ramage, turning her attention to the creature Zathras, who she sent sparks flying at, Draal shook his head. She might be the Machine, but, unnoticed by her, blood started to pour from her earlobes and sides of her mouth on her physical body.

* * *

><p>The shuttle doors opened and Lennier took a look inside and grunted. He had no idea how they were going to fit all three of them in this small shuttle. Not with this comatose human at any rate.<p>

"Uhhh-" Sheridan said, glancing in, "Isn't there something a little bigger?"

"No," Lennier replied, shaking his head.

Sheridan looked uncomfortably as he asked, "Not even a compartment to stick luggage into?"

"No."

"Not much into comfort, are you Minbari?"

"It is...an oversight on our part."

* * *

><p>"Laura Takashima," Doctor Kyle raised a cup to her as she took a seat by him, "This is an unexpected surprise. You don't make it down here to the Zocalo all that often."<p>

"Ben," she smiled exhaustedly as she slumped into the seat by him, "Can I stick my head into the fusion reactor?"

He thought about it a second. "It would do quiet a transformation to your complexion," he teased, "But I wouldn't recommend it."

"Can I shoot Colonel Ben Hitler?"

"I wouldn't recommend that either. But tell me, is it really that bad?"

She shook her head and laid her head down on the table. The cool metal against her face felt like a nerve tonic. It would almost be as good as real coffee, and not that d-n substitute they'd been forced to grow since coming to Epsilon 3. It just didn't have the right soil for coffee beans.

"I left my post," she finally managed.

Kyle set down his cup and looked at her with wide eyes, his dark black eyes boring into her soul. "Why? What happened?"

"The whole planet might blow up any minute and all doesn't give a d-n about anything that's going on," she explained, throwing a hand up despite how odd it'd look with her upper body planted on the table.

"I cannot imagine you'll get any brownie points for that," he remarked.

She chuckled despite herself. "I'd like a brownie."

* * *

><p>Sinclair remembered getting into the shuttle. But nothing beyond that. He didn't remember his three hour journey to <em>Babylon 5<em>. He didn't remember being hailed and brought in. He didn't remember the argument that took place between Colonel Ben Zayne and Laurel Takashima over what they should do. Ben Zayne had been of the opinion of throwing him into the brig for deserting his post for as long as he did. Takashima had argued that was not fair. Finally though, it had been concluded by Ben Kyle who threw them both out so he could do his job.

* * *

><p>She thrashed through the room. Everything she touched sparked and exploded. She was losing control. The harder she tried to maintain control and continue torturing the man who had destroyed her world, the more her body was dying. Her eyeballs cracked. Her skin tore. The intestines burst. Bones imploded. But still, she would not let go.<p>

"This is my power!" she screamed, and the world shook more violently then it ever had, the will of the Guardian and Machine at war.

* * *

><p>G'Sten smiled from his command post on the G'larken Mountain, as the humans and Centauri were routed. The plan had been left to his discretion by his nephew. How proud he was of the boy. He made a fine Warmaster. This was their second step in the war against the Centauri Republic. It took a little while in getting the Kha'Ri to back them up, but it had given them a fine opportunity to explore every possible location to attack.<p>

Now the road was open. Gorash III was the next target, and they'd face off against one of the greater threats to their war. Lord-General Marrago. But, until then, he would watch his success unfold, and hope it would impress Warmaster G'Kar.

Unknown to G'Sten, his Warmaster first met a Centauri Prime Minister who offered peace. Nor, did he know that Shadows moved and a man would come to ask a four worded question.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean you can't find them?" Vir asked, looking at the screen, "They couldn't just be gone. That's absurd! You said they were the best we had."<p>

"I am sorry," the Minbari said, shaking her head, "But we had just learned Starkiller was on the _Triloman_. I sent them there myself to grab him, but the two agents have not reported back."

"This is not good!" Vir grabbed his head and squeezed his eyes shut hard, "It wasn't good to begin with granted. I mean, it was never going to be that good. No matter what Matthew Gideon, Mr. Human Technomage himself said. But, how could they...how could they...phew! Mayan, why does this have to happen to me?"

She shrugged, "I don't know."

"Conspiracy of Light," he blahed, "Should of called us, 'Conspiracy of Always-too-lates'."

"I do not like it when you act like this," she pouted, "Call me back when you aren't so angry. Good night, Ambassador Cotto."

The screen shut-off. _Ambassador_ Cotto? Where did she come off calling him that? Why so formal? He and Mayan had always been on easy first-name terms. Granted, Prince Cartagia had arranged this position for his good friend Vir, but that didn't mean _she_ had to call him that.

"This is a black day," a voice spoke softly behind him and he jumped and turned back to see Gideon standing in a corner, "Weep Vir. I fear that Sheridan may be lost to us."

* * *

><p>"It-is-mine-"<p>

The holographic image flickered and went out and the tattered remains of Samantha Kelsey, Psi-Cop, Rating P-12, collapsed. Her blood was smeared in the Machine, and the creature Zathras clicked his tongue.

"Warned her we did," he shook his head and clicked to himself, and began digging through a toolbox near the base of the Great Machine, "But no one ever listens to poor Zathras. Now Machine needs cleaned. Take time. But, there is time. Always time. Time is finite. Draal finite. This...wrong tool."_e H_


	29. Signs of Future Things

**Chapter 29: Signs of Future Things**

"I am afraid we are at an impasse," G'Kar said, leaning back in his chair, three massive Narn warriors behind him.

"It is you who are the impasse, not me," Londo thrust a finger forward, his own guards behind him.

"The Kha'Ri has empowered me to discuss a truce with your world," G'Kar looked with disinterest at the bowl of ink and the quill inside it on the rough stone table, "But, I will not entreat with you, Prime Minister. If your Emperor is sincere about ending this war...then he should come to me and say such."

Londo spluttered, "You are a lunatic."

"Interesting isn't it Mollari?" the Narn smiled with satisfaction, "Your people once ruled over my world with an iron fist and we snapped at your command. And now, we speak as equals."

"You are not our equals," Londo responded with disgust, "You are like those Earth creatures...you know the ones, duck billed, webbed feet, feathers."

"Cats?" G'Kar raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," Londo slapped the table, making everyone except G'Kar and himself jump, "Your like cats nibbling us to death. You'll need to do a lot more then capture two colonies to be a worthy adversary."

G'Kar snorted, "Then why did we capture Ragesh III so easily? And what about Quadrant 37? You had both Centauri and Human forces on the planet, but they are both were driven before the courage and audacity of the Narns. I do not want war, Mollari, but I will not pander to a man such as yourself. Your days are gone. The only one I will speak peace with is Emperor Turhan himself."

Londo stared with indignation at the Narn as he folded his arms and with a sense of disconnect to his surroundings wiped away a piece of dirt off his uniform. "Bah!" And with that he was up and storming out of the room.

* * *

><p>The <em>Agamemnon<em> was easily enough found. It only took three days of travelling in hyperspace to find it, but upon arrival they had found the long mid-sectioned, multi box-shaped destroyer. Sheridan had taken over the communications aspect of contacting his ship and now they waited.

Lennier stared out at the ship. The ship that was living legend. And he looked at Sheridan who was obviously relieved to see his ship. Curious how humans seemed unable to hide their emotions. Minbari, certainly of the religious caste, were much more able to conceal their emotions.

"I am looking forward to a vibe shower," he said, grinning from ear to ear.

"If they will let you onboard," the Ranger reminded him, "They do not yet seem convinced you are who you say you are."

"Can't blame them for being cautious," he shrugged.

"Yes," Lennier said pursing his lips, "Cautious. And how much longer do we have to wait on their caution?"

"Right..about...now."

"Minbari shuttle," the _Agamemnon_'s flight control navigator said, "Proceed to the landing bay. Be advised that if you so much as twitch funny at us, we'll blow you out of the sky."

"Thanks you, Naomi," Sheridan called back through the channel, despite the fact they had shut it off almost immediately.

"Naomi," he explained, "Connelly. Good woman. Comes from a blue collar family."

Lennier frowned. "Collars are for animals," he remarked, "Is she some sort of animal?"

Sheridan looked at him and frowned. They had talked quite a bit since their escape and they had learned a lot about each other. He still hated the Minbari with a passion, but Lennier was alright. This was going to be an interesting...association.

"Well, Mr. Lennier," he said, "Yes, actually she can be at times."

* * *

><p>The shuttle docked and Mr. Zento and the security currently on duty that weren't assigned to watch the prisoners from the destroyed Minbari Heavy Cruiser were waiting. Commander Corwin also was standing there.<p>

"Do you think the Captain really is in there, Commander?" he asked, "Or do you think it's a setup."

Corwin shrugged. "I leave the security details to you, Officer Zento," he replied, "Even if he's in there, which I highly doubt, I'll trust you to not shoot to kill."

Zento shrugged. "Do my best Commander. But no promises."

The shuttle's side opened and out of the side tumbled two bodies which hit the deck with curses. Zento and two others edged closer, PPG's drawn, ready to react if need be. Corwin watched with a growing sense of expectancy.

"One Minbari and one human," Zento shouted back, "And there's another one inside."

"Blast you, Chief," Corwin snapped, "Is one of them the Captain?"

"Yes."

Corwin ran as fast as he could over to them, and looked down at his Captain who groaned. The security guards picked up the Minbari who didn't offer any resistance and dragged him off. One of the security officers called for Doctor Lillian Hobbs to hurry down with a medical team.

"Officer Zento," Sheridan said, "Be gentle with him. He helped me escape."

Corwin's eyes widened. The Captain sticking up for a Minbari? That was unusual. Well, at least he was back.


	30. Offers Accepted and Rejected

**Chapter 30: Offers Accepted and Rejected**

Michael had kicked the booze with the help of his lovely wife Lisa. Kassie had also been a help as well, using the booze bottles as tennis practice. He had gone through the anger, the inaccurate yet hurtful accusations. The irrational decisions, the vengeful acts, the self-loathing. And he found himself wondering...what was the point?

Each day he went to a job he cared nothing for, acting security for something he didn't care for. So what if archeologists dug in the sands of Epsilon 3? Surely they didn't need his talents there. And William Edgars had made it plain only a few days ago that security guards were a dime a dozen.

And so he stood over the hospital bed, looking down at Bester. He had been carried to the hospital by a supposed Minbari who laid him in the care of the healers, and turned and left. The ground shook violently as it had done the past three days and the table tipped over next to the hospital bed. No, not all aliens were bad. But he knew they were responsible for the death of his friend Walker.

Alfred Bester was a survivor. Born in the Russian Consortium, he had been dragged into the Corps almost the day he was born. He had been raised by the Corps, and they had put him through the most strenuous of mental and physical tests. Broken and remade he had been.

He had been the preferred Psi-Cops to do death bed scans. And one day he had been too curious and stayed too long. He had lost a part of his soul. There was nothing he did that replaced the bit that was lost. Before then he had been enthusiastically cheerful and had shied from risks. He had never considered murdering anyone. But that changed that day. The saddest thing was the man hadn't been a bad person he had scanned either.

He had survived some of the most difficult assignments of the Earth-Minbari War. He had mentally battled aliens that were too powerful for anyone else to battle. He had blocked at times whole regiments of Minbari telepaths. He had chased down rogue human telepaths and if needed be fried their brains.

And ever since the fall of Earth, and the destruction of most of the Psi Corps, he had become the law himself. He had rebuilt the Psi Corps and made it more powerful. Given it greater latitude. He had plans. And dying was not one of them. Even though Samantha Kelsey had turned on him, which baffled him to no end, despite everything he had been through, believe him when he said he had been through worse. Because he had.

"I've been giving it some thought Bester," Garibaldi said, running a hand through his diminishing hair-line, "What could you ever possibly want with a drunken slob like me? I'm no good to anyone. Why do you want me?"

_Why not? Mr. Garibaldi, you are a jewel. You have greatness inside._

Garibaldi let out a frustrated sigh, "How can you believe that? You can scan me and see I've never been good at anything."

_You find what cannot be found. You have an ability which I myself envy. I am sure you could have found the betrayal before it had happened to me._

"You can't believe that," Garibaldi sat down on the chair, a small tremor, noticeably smaller than the ones before had done.

_I don't believe. I know, because I have scanned you. You have the ability to become a great one. And with me, you can accomplish this._

Garibaldi stared at him. And he suddenly felt...invigorated. Everything he said made since. He wanted to be more. He could be more.

He had felt like a man who has all doors closed. And then there was Bester, metaphorically holding a door open a sliver and beckoning to him. He did not trust the Corps persey, and he most certainly did not trust Bester, but the little man was giving him a chance to remake himself.

"I accept your offer."

* * *

><p>"Warmaster G'Kar will only negotiate directly with the Emperor," Londo said, crackling his knuckles between his hands, "Gods, Virini, how many of our Gods did I offend to be forced to haggle with a Narn who I want to strangle?"<p>

The silly little man who spoke mostly nonsense said, "All of them."

"That feels about right," he slumped into his seat, "Only thing that makes it worthwhile is my nephew Carn Mollari is captain of this vessel. But, I will do what needs to be done to work out this peace and save His Majesty the dishonor of being among the Narns."

Virini looked giddy on his end of the video connection. "That's where your wrong Mo-Mo-Mollari!"

Londo raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"He left a month after you did, and should be there in a few days!" he giggled.

"WHAT?" Londo bellowed, jumping up in his place and knocking over the chair, "Why did he not tell me? I am his Prime Minister after all, yes?"

Virini shrugged. "His Majesty felt you might run into this trouble with the Narns and so felt it was his duty to take over the responsibility personally. But Mollari, don't worry so. He brought his most able and trusted guards and his telepaths. He should be in no danger."

Londo shook his head. "But his health has been so poor," he pointed out, "What does he think he's doing?"

"Being a living God," Virini replied, looking befuddled by Londo's anger, "He's showing strength. The court had considerably weakened in support since your leave and so he's felt the only way to bolster support was to go personally."

Gods! Why did this always happen to him?

* * *

><p>Sheridan laid in the medlab bed, blankets over his body which was only covered by a thin medical gown. He looked over to the glass which peered into the isolation chamber, where Stephan Franklin lay in his coma. How he wished he could help him.<p>

"How are you doing today, sir?" a voice asked and he turned his head to see David standing there with his boyish smile. It brightened his soul considerably to see his second.

"I'm fine," he said, his voice a little scratchy, "Doctor Hobbs said I'd been asleep a long time."

David shrugged and said, "Oh, only two whole days. You talked in your sleep sir. Do you...want to talk about any of it?"

A flash of laughter and searing pain ran through his mind and he winced. No, he was no where able to talk about such things. Not yet at any rate.

"I can't," he shook his head, "I hope you can understand."

David nodded. "Sure."

"I'd much rather find out what you have been up to in my absence," Sheridan replied, pushing himself a little further up the bed, "How was commanding the _Agamemnon_ in my absence?"

David stepped back to the bed next to him and hopped back onto it. He shrugged and said, "It was fine," he smiled like a kid getting the keys to the car the first time, "Especially not having to report to you."

Sheridan scoffed. "I bet," he said, "Tell me in a nutshell, what's happened since I was captured?"

"We've had two fights which resulted in a few bumps and bruises," David began to rattle off a list of important things, "There was a fire in the galley last week. No one got hurt. Mr. Zento and Miss Connelly are having a illicit affair."

"How illicit?" Sheridan asked amused.

"I've already had to call them out on it," David groaned, "Mr. Zento sleeps only two quarters down, and well, you know that most of the walls weren't made with privacy in mind."

"Do I ever," Sheridan chuckled, "Why haven't I seen Lou since I got back?"

"The Chief never came back from his R&R to Vega Colony," David said.

"But that was before I got captured at Zarkis."

"I know."

Neither one of them spoke. Both knew that the Minbari had spies within the Human Remnant. If Lou was captured...it would explain how they had found him. Welch was as good as they came, but not even he was totally immune to the effects of torture. Hopefully he was still alive.

"Did you continue the mission?" Sheridan finally asked, putting the matter aside in his mind, "Tell me you didn't try to go searching for me."

David nodded his head slowly. "Yep. And we captured one."

Sheridan's eyes widened. "You captured a member of the legendary Grey Council?" he asked astonished, "We were at it three years and never could catch one."

"And yet as soon as you leave I find it," David said as straight faced as he could, "Curious that."

"Up yours!"

The two laughed and David waited for Sheridan to compose himself.

"We also got the proof we were sent to find," he said.

Sheridan closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "They questioned me over and over again how to get the codes to the Remnant's defenses."

"They've got several staging areas," David said, "And they look near ready."

* * *

><p>"I do not like the question you are offering me," G'Sten said, "As I've said before, all I want is to serve the Narn Requiem and help it claim its rightful revenge over the Centauri. Beyond that nothing else really matters."<p>

"Is that really all you want?" the strange human asked, in his grey business suit, standing with a hand in his pocket and another held cupped before him.

G'Sten shrugged, "Unless there was some of the Ancient Enemy," he replied, "The one that G'Quan speaks of. Then it would be my dearest wish to rip their throats out. There would be no greater honor in my mind. But, until then, I will fight the Centauri."

He saw Morden's eyes narrow slightly and an eyebrow raised. "I see," he smiled after a few seconds, "Good day, Warleader."


	31. Shadow Celebrations

**Chapter 31: Shadow Celebrations**

"Astounding," General Hague said, smiling at the vid screen, "To imagine you actually caught a Satai of the Grey Council. Marvelous to say the least. But if anyone could, you could Captain."

Sheridan smirked at the screen. He knew the real reason he had been sent on this mission. It had very little to do with actually capturing a Satai. They believed he'd be killed, and his popularity had been growing as the only war hero of the Human Remnant. Kill him, and his power with the masses would evaporate. Well...he had friends now that would make sure humanity would survive. Better than these self delusional generals and tin-plated dictators could ever imagine.

"Thank you, General," he replied, standing with hands behind his back, "But the real credit goes to my second, Commander Corwin. He captured her and found the Minbari buildup zones, while I was still captive. I am sure he would have done fine even without me being alive."

"Oh...yes," Hague suppressed a cough, "Commander Corwin. I guess he does have a future in the Remnant military."

"Thinking of the military," Sheridan replied, "May I ask sir? I've heard some rumors of a full-scale war between the Narns and an alliance between our people and the Centauri. But nothing definite. How is it going?"

"The official party line is that we are holding our own," Hague said with a sigh.

"But...?"

"We were handed nicely during our first battle against the Narns," Hague clenched a fist and placed it on the table in front of him, "Our fleet wasn't even in the same system when they hit, and they overwhelmed our forces within a matter of a couple hours. Frankly Sheridan, we need you here against the Narns, but if the Minbari are preparing to go to war again..."

"I'm the only officer that ever gave them an absa-fraggen-lutley butt whopping," he said, a smile playing across his face.

Hague's dislike and more than a little jealousy flared for a few seconds as he tried to remain composed. It gave Sheridan some comfort and joy to see his superior so beside himself. No one had ever handed the Minbari a defeat of that magnitude. Like he had done, at the critical Battle of Durani Triple. What a glorious sight that had been so many years ago.

"I expect you back to Epsilon 3 in a week with the Satai not damaged," Hague snapped, "New Geneva out."

The screen went blank and the symbol of the Human Remnant, an "H" overlapping an "R" replaced his face on screen. As he stood there, letting his composure drop, a huge wave of weariness hit him like a wave and he grabbed the edge of the table, his legs trembling. It had only been four days since he had gotten back to the _Agamemnon_, and he had finally seen fit to report back to Hague.

The screen beeped and he rolled his eyes. Always something.

"Onscreen," he said, and didn't even try to stand straight as David's face appeared on the screen.

"Ah..." he smiled, allowing himself to fall back into his chair, "What do you have for me today?"

"We are on schedule to get to Vega Colony sir," he reported.

Sheridan sighed and shook his head, "Belay that."

"Sir?"

"Our glorious Joint Chiefs-of-Staff have ordered us back to Epsilon 3," Sheridan explained, "So, off we must go."

Corwin nodded vigorously. "Alright sir," he replied, "Also, Doctor Franklin is still under. Doctor Hobbs believes he will probably die before we get anywhere for help."

"Lousy way for anyone to go," Sheridan muttered, "I only wish there was something I could do for him."

Corwin shrugged, "Would you like to see our prisoners?" he asked, "Not only did we catch the Satai but we also captured one of her party. A Minbari named Zacllen. Might find something useful."

Sheridan shook his head. "No..." he finally managed, "I'm too tired. Let someone else take care of it."

* * *

><p>Sinclair walked on his own, out of the medlab and down the hall to the transport tube. Doctor Kyle had finally given him a clean bill of health and sent him on his way. Now he'd go back...where? Colonel Ben Zayne had taken over his quarters and discarded a lot of his stuff. Where was he to stay?<p>

"Commander Sinclair," a voice said and he turned to see Takashima running up to catch up to him, "I realize you don't have a place to stay, so you can stay with me until we get this situation all figured out. I'm sure New Geneva will toss out Ben Hitler and put you back in charge."

Sinclair raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Why Laura, I didn't realize you were the vindictive type," he commented to which she let out a low huff.

"He's an arrogant man who cares nothing about this command," she gripped, "Besides, I should have been given command of this station while you were gone. Instead of Colonel Psycho. I care about this place. He doesn't. Not like you."

"Thank you," he said, wrapping an arm around her and giving her a quick hug, "And I accept your offer. But, what will the crew think?"

"They'll be jealous of all the hot action you'll be getting," she said mock seriously.

A heartfelt laugh bubbled forth from his chest and came out in a exhilarating rush. "We're not that close, Lieutenant Commander."

* * *

><p>Hyperspace. A wild and dangerous environment. A place where one can get lost if there is the slightest malfunction. It's a dangerous tradeoff one makes when they take this, the fastest form of space travel. So, it's almost impossible to track someone in hyperspace.<p>

"Almost impossible" is not the same as "is impossible".

Sheridan was going to his bed when there was a knock on the door. He grumbled about intruders and spacing them all.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"It's Commander Corwin," David's voice came through, a tad more unsure than usual, "There is a Mr. Morden asking to dock. What shall I reply with?"

"Yes," Sheridan replied, jumping up from his bed and walking to the door, "I'll meet him at the docking bay."

It wasn't that long of a walk to the docking bay. But, he had his mind filled with thoughts and questions. What was that that had happened back on the Minbari ship with the two Minbari? It both thrilled and disturbed him at the thought of such killing without any sense of a challenge. No one should die so ignominious.

But, when he saw Mr. Morden, he spotted at once a large box in his hands. Mr. Zento was there, eyeing him suspiciously. Sheridan nodded to his that he was clear.

"Imagine this, Mr. Morden," he said, coming up to him, "I never was able to thank you for your help in my escape. I do assume that was what happened to those Minbari on that ship?"

"No thanks are necessary, Captain," he smiled smoothly, "We are here to serve. And I have come bearing a present."

Sheridan frowned slightly. "You come find me in hyperspace," he said slowly, disbelieving, "To give me a present? Why?"

"All associations, friendly and business can only be built and strengthened by trust and giving aid to one another. And this will build that trust."

Sheridan took the offered box and opened it. In it was a device, with red buttons, cords and slots, and what looked like finger screens. What they were for he didn't know.

"What is this?" he finally asked.

"It is called a Trallenien Energy Transfer Device," Morden replied, "It was used by that race as a means of capital punishment, but if used on a lower setting, can be used to heal."

"Really?" Sheridan asked skeptically, "How?"

"By transferring the life force of one person to another," Morden explained, "The ultimate form of mercy. Could be used to heal a healer I should think."_e H_


	32. The Reasons We Do

**Chapter 32: The Reasons We Do**

Everything about the ship stank. Every piece of metal alloy, every corner, every hall, every room, every gun, every uniform. Even the windows that looked out to space stank. Even this bed stank. It wasn't even tilted to start off with.

And Lennier the Ranger, of the Third Fane of Chudomo, was forced to breath in the stink. Humans stank, and he was forced to absorb it all. It even made his meditations hard. But, try he must. His soul had to purified. He had done the greatest evil of all.

"The greatest evil lies not in the turning on a clan or faction or principality. It lies in the complacency of those who know evil abounds. That is the greatest evil."

Valen spoke thus. And Lennier had not only been complacent. He had actively participated in the willful torture of another sentient being. Evil had been allowed safe passage in the Minbari Federation, and he had done nothing. He had even sat in a session and watched Deathwalker, an evil woman who knew nothing of love or true loyalty, torture the Starkiller.

And now...he was in league with the man who had brought pain and heartache to every member of his people. How many of his family had died during his dishonorable use of warheads to annihilate the _Drala Fi_ and her battle group? Seventeen. He felt their souls anguish at him for this betrayal to their name. But what loyalty did he owe a race that would willfully use wicked means to accomplish their ends?

He sat there now, legs crossed, his hands held in front of him in meditation. No, his allegiance did not lay with the Humans. Sure, he no longer served his race...but he would not serve their nemesis of races. He would serve Sheridan Starkiller, and hopefully save his own race in the process.

There came a knock at his door and he opened his eyes, his breathing slow. He looked up and blinked and the door swung open and in walked Sheridan. Slowly he walked up and unsure what to do, bent down and sat on the floor.

"I never thanked you for your help in getting me off that ship," he said apologetically.

"Thanks are not required," Lennier shook his head, "It is I who should be thanking you, Captain."

Sheridan frowned confused. "Why?" he asked.

"You showed me that my people need help," Lennier replied, "I have dishonored my name and clan by allowing Deathwalker to be among us and assisting her in her treatment of you."

Sheridan shrugged. "You can't be held responsible," he reasoned, "Not for something you knew nothing about."

Lennier shook his head. How ignorant this human was of Minbari tradition and customs. It proved you did not have to understand someone to kill them.

"You do not understand," he sighed.

"Then help me understand," Sheridan pressed, "My father was a diplomat and I learned about many cultures. Try me."

Lennier took a slow breath as he gave in to the urge to instruct this human.

"Everything we Minbari do reflects on the whole of our clans," he explained, "Even if we do not commit the crime, if a member of our clan did, the whole reputation of the clan is smirked. And I did do evil."

"You were doing everything your Minbari sense of duty told you to do," Sheridan reasoned, "There is no shame in that."

"Nevertheless," Lennier sighed, "I did drag you to be tortured by that woman. Even if I did none of the torturing myself and even if I did not know, I unwittingly helped evil in its purposes."

The two feel silent. Lennier felt ashamed of his wrongs, even more fully as he explained it to Sheridan. Sheridan felt sympathy for his once-while enemy. How could either one of them be seeing a man, when he had been portrayed as bloody thirsty and brutal?

"What shall become of me?" Lennier asked.

Sheridan blinked a few times. This was something he didn't want to think about himself.

"I will do my best to protect you," he said, "But my government will want a d-ned lot of things before they will ever consider keeping you alive. It will be difficult, but I shall do my best."

"Thank you."

"Yeah," Sheridan said and slowly began to rise, "Meanwhile, we do have some captured Minbari onboard. Would you like to see them?"

Lennier nodded. "Yes, I would."

* * *

><p>One hundred and fifty years before, a Centauri exploration had gone to what they had thought was an abandoned world. But instead of finding nothing but desert and minerals and mountains, they had found a people, rich with history and religion, the people as rough hewn as the world they lived on. Very few aliens had ever visited their world, so the people greeted them with open arms. The Centauri captain was so enraptured by the people he saw that he sent a message to Homeworld, telling them that this people would be a fine edition to the Republic, but they needed to be allowed to choose to join. Because for all the peace he saw, he could also see a fire deep within, that if ever pushed would become nothing but long drawn out bloody conflict.<p>

The Kha'Ri were fascinated by these newcomers, with their pale skin and fur on their heads. They also brought new technologies and promised to make them a space faring people everyone respected. So, they accepted the offer to join the Republic.

But, that is where the Narns and Centauri mutual understand of history comes to an end. The Narn people in general could not understand why Centauri troops were landing on the planet. And so, they lashed out. The Narns saw nothing but an invading force. The Centauri saw a people who were ungrateful for the advances they gave them and punished them. The Emperor Salazar the Majestic, would allow no one to desecrate his people, and so forced the occupation of the Narns, and never tried to reason or explain what actually happened.

And the ruling body of the Kha'Ri, those who understood what really happened, were murdered by the Centauri for "stirring up the populace" and by their own people, for they believed they had not fought for them. Casualties were high on both sides. The Centauri had sent seven hundred men there originally, it ended up sponging up three battle fleets, and seventy thousand troops, with over a quarter being killed. Seventeen nobles were murdered and three thousand Centauri civilians were brutally killed.

But the Narns also lost heavily. On Narn itself, there was thirty million people. Three million people were eventually killed, and thirteen million were never heard from again, being exported into slavery in all parts of the Republic. It wasn't until Turhan rose to power before the Centauri left Narn and the resistance was over.

One of those that had died was G'Larren. He had been a servant of a noble house in the great city of G'Kamazad. One day, he spilled hot jalao on the mistress of the house. In her anger she ordered the guards to drag him to a Jalwah tree and tied him there. He died three days later. But before he died, his son came to see him. His last words before he did was to his son.

"Remember me," he said, "I am proud of you son."

With his father dead, the boy ran away and killed his first Centauri, drowning the woman in the River G'Qoun . G'Kar could still remember the look of terror on her face as he forced her head underwater and turned her to see him as she died.

The Centauri had stripped his world. And now, walking down the corridor towards him was the embodiment of everything he hated about the Centauri. Two guards walked in front of the man, and two behind him, and two women. Telepaths with white veils draped over their heads.

He had talked with the First Circle of the Kha'Ri itself. They had given him their blessing. As the Emperor walked up to him, he held out his arms in the Embrace of Friendship. G'Kar grabbed it, allowing his mind to be cleared, to keep the telepaths from reading his thoughts.

"I am so pleased you could meet with me," Turhan said with a genuine smile, "There has been far too much bloodshed. I will tell you a secret G'Kar."

"What's that?" G'Kar asked through gritted teeth.

"Our differences will never end until someone admits they are sorry," Turhan replied.

"I will never say I am sorry," G'Kar tried not to growl.

Turhan sighed, and staring him in the eye said, "I know. And I am sorry. I'm so sorry for the troubles between our peoples. I am sorry for the tragedy that has played out between our two races. I am sorry for the part we played in it."

G'Kar's eyes widened and he nearly collapsed from the shock. Was this man, this monster, apologizing?

"I was born into a role prepared for me," the Emperor continued, "I have never chosen anything for myself. I have done everything everyone expected of me. The past tempts us, the present confuses us and the future frightens us. And I fear we will all end in fire if we do not do what is needed."

G'Kar felt his resolve slipping. As the Emperor lowered his head and backed away, G'Kar felt himself admiring the man. But, he had to do it. He reached his hand out and a blade shot from the lever that had been built into his sleeve and before the Royal Guards could react sprang forward and plunged the dagger deep into the Emperor's heart. The Guards were not able to react before the rest of the Narns in the room jumped them and tore into their throats and taking the telepaths dragged them away to where they would be pulled apart, limb from limb.

As Turhan collapsed, he grabbed at G'Kar's arms and his eyes were an infinite sadness. No accusation. No anger. Only sadness.

"Is that what that blade was mad for?" he asked softly, the life leaving his body, "Is that what you were born for?"

The Emperor's eyes glazed over and G'Kar dropped the body onto the deck. He turned and fled down the hall, the Emperor's words of apology and his questions burning in his mind. _"Is that what you were born for?"e H_


	33. The Night of Nights

**Chapter 33: The Night of Nights**

The deaths of the priestlings on-board the Triloman had been attributed to the escape of Starkiller. Sinoval should never have trusted that Ranger. What drove him to give his great secrets to that imbecile? Lennier the Ranger would be hunted down and killed. He swore it with an oath.

The door to his quarters opened and in walked Kalain, his bearded second. He was a formidable warrior, and he trusted him almost implicitly. He bowed to him as he entered.

"Forgive me Shai Alyt," he said, "But the Council summons you."

Sinoval closed his eyes and rubbed them with his fingers. "One day Kalain," he told him, "I will rule the Minbari Federation. Mark my words. Then they shall no longer call me like a child does a pet telkonen."

Kalain smirked. "And when do you plan to dispose of this witch Jha'Dur?"

"Very soon," Sinoval replied, "But not yet. I still need her."

He stood up and with a sweep his robes that billowed behind him as he stalked out of the room and into the corridor. Kalain followed closely behind him.

* * *

><p><em>-Shall we proceed?-<em>

_-There is no time. They are not ready for immortality.-_

_-We shall do what must be done.-_

* * *

><p>A jump point formed and out of hyperspace slid a ship. Red, green and blue mixed together, it looked like a squid from Earth that was. It fell into line behind the Minbari ship. And out of its weapon systems came several beams of yellow energy that connected in the center and sped forward, and sliced through the <em>Trilomen<em>.

The first hit threw Sinoval and Kalain across the hallway and Sinoval smashed into a consol. The crystals broke under him and he felt the diamond hard jagged edges cut through his skin. The Minbari behind him slammed his head into the wall and with a violent snap his neck broke. Wires ruptured down the hallway and pieces of plating in the hallway ruptured and exploded outwards.

Panic filled the crew as the Vorlon ship fired a second time, destroying the engines. Sinoval flew against the far wall at an odd angle and felt his leg snap. Kalain pushed himself up and strutted over to his Shai Alyt and looked down, blinking.

"Don't stand there like a Worker fool Kalain," Sinoval gasped through the pain, "We must escape the ship. Whoever is attacking us is destroying us and we don't have much time."

Kalain stared at him a few more seconds. Sinoval looked at him and doubt filled him. "Kalain," he ordered, "Help me escape."

"I am sorry," Kalain said simply, "But I will rule the Federation. Not you and that Dilgar whore."

And with that he turned and left. Sinoval felt the rage boiling inside of him and he screamed "KALAIN!"

* * *

><p>Jha'Dur, also known as Deathwalker, knew there was little time. She did not go looking for Sinoval. He was a means to an end, the end which was the destruction of the Minbari. Oh yes, they'd first destroy the humans. But after that, what would she have to live for?<p>

She was to build an empire. Those humans brutal enough, those Minbari savage enough, those Centauri base enough, those Narn primal enough, those would be her army. An army of Deathwalkers. They would spread terror and death and subject all species to her will. But, Sinoval did not have vision enough to see it. No amount of pleasure would ever replace real ambition.

She turned to the survival pods, and bumped in Kalain who was also going to the pods.

"Ah Kalain," she smirked, "And how is my love?"

"He's dead. As you are, Dilgar slut."

Deathwalked had been trained in the military of the Dilgar. She had fought dozens of battles. But there had been a reason that the Dilgar had never taken on the Minbari. She barely thrust out her arm to defend herself when clear circular blade shot from the knuckles of his gloves and he shoved the blades deep into her abdomin.

As she stood there, shock filling her, he stabbed into her cheast just below her heart. And she hadn't even started to collapse when he pulled them out and swept them across her throat. She felt blood and fluids flowing from her and staining her clothes as she fell on the ground and he walked away, taking no notice of her as she died, the blood gurgling in her throat.

* * *

><p>The Centauri <em>Primus-Class <em>cruiser maneuvered get around the _Ktorens_ flank. G'Sten growled as the ship began to pummel the side of the ship with its pulse blasts. The Centauri had launched a full-out attack after news of the Emperor's death reached Centauri Prime.

Blast those telepaths! While G'Kar had done good work by killed Turhan, he should have killed the telepaths first. They were linked with telepaths back at the Royal Palace and they had relayed what happened even before they were killed.

But there was no time now for such thoughts.

"Turn us on our axis and position us to deliver a broadside with the lasers on that Centauri cruiser," he snapped the order to the helm and then to the communications officer ordered, "And order the _Q'Guan Eeeth_ to pull up along our side and protect us from the fighters from the Centauri flagship. Whoever is commanding that ship has been holding back, and as soon as we are done with this one I want us to drive straight at them."

"Yes sir," both of the men shouted.

He felt the pull of the ship as the massive triangular-shipped Heavy Assault Cruiser turned. It was harder said than done. As front thrusters fired on one side of the ship, the other side fired reverse thrusters. If not done correctly, the whole ship could stall and that would be the end of it.

But, the ship pulled out correctly, and he watched with a grim smile as the Centauri ship tried to match his maneuver. But, it was doomed.

"Fire all batteries," he ordered, "Target the bridge and weapons."

The red lasers lanced out and sliced through the ship. The _Primus_ bucked backwards from the hits, the front of the ship slightly leaning forward as the lasers tore through the ship. A few blasts lanced out, but without the bridge to direct things from their end and the systems becoming fried, shots were going wild. The _Ktorens_ continued tearing though it, and Frazi heavy fighters peppered it, until at last the massive battleship began to tear apart, pieces spinning through space.

"Turn towards the enemy flagship and full power to the engines," he ordered but he hadn't even finished the order when a ship wrinkled into normal space and blasted apart the engines with a blast of purple laser.

"Report!" he snapped.

"Engines are destroyed," the soldier to his front said from his seat, "We're dead in space."

"Q'Guan save us," G'Sten muttered as the ship began to tear apart, the laser running through the length of his ship. Decks ruptured, guns exploded, hard vacuum sucked out crew into the cold black of space. G'Stean last look was a ship that flew past and wrinkled back into space, it's job done, screaming in his mind.

* * *

><p>No one knew what happened that night. Near midnight, Christmas Eve, the Great Machine awoke. When her masters had touched Samantha Kelsey and began positioning her, they knew that the Machine would never accept her. But, they knew one thing that was forgotten to all. Not even Zathras, who had been there longest knew.<p>

One of the reasons Epsilon 3 had been abandoned by the Takarn, (the race Varn was a member of) was the fact that when the Great Machine was touched by immense darkness, nearly a thousand years ago, the Machine had expelled it. It simply could not cleanse the evil internally. Not evil of that magnitude. It had to be pushed out throughout the air and planet itself, and if a telepathic mind had been touched by darkness, it had the potential of driving anyone living on the planet mad.

And that night, despite Draal's and Zathras' best efforts, the darkness spilled out as it was driven from the Machine. It started with a few people, waking in their beds and screaming. Then, many went insane. And finally, the violence began. There was seventy-five murders and triple that many suicides among the alien population. But seven fold was the losses for the humans.

Doctor Sarah Chamber, who had healed Michael Garibaldi, stole a transport in her insanity and disappeared. Who knew where she went, except away from the planet. Garibaldi in his madness stormed the Mutai and murdered everyone inside the building. Security personal broke into shops they were supposed to protect. The prisons rioted and it was poison gas the jailers in the madness released, killing everyone.

All five of the _Babylon_ stations escaped unscathed for the most part, although they ended up having to disable several squadrons of Starfurys from the surface that tried to ram each of the stations. Ben Zayne reacted by trying to reach New Geneva but when the secretary he met only laughed hysterically as everything, until the woman passed out, he dismissed it as nothing more than a bad day at the office.

Susan Luchenko was found in her living room in front of the fire, her PPG in hand. The report stated suicide. Her whole security detail, including Lianna Kemmer were also found dead. THe conclusion was they shot each other. President Luchenko's dog, Scarlett was found, having been eaten by her husband, and he had afterwards having hung himself from the bedroom ceiling.

The Darkness needs a beat down people. A people scared that will look to anyone with strength to help them. The next morning, William Clark was sworn in as the President of the Human Remnant. His first order of business was to announce an alliance to a new race, so advanced that no one dare oppose them now.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Lennier sat with his good friend Zacllen. He had never thought to see him. Well, technically not true, he had always suspected they would meet again, but certainly not in this place. Nor having this conversation.<p>

"You serve Delenn?" he asked.

"She is a noble and wise person Lennier," Zacllen replied, "She believes in the Prophecies of Valen. She knows better than anyone what will come to pass."

"I heard she once looked much different," Lennier said questioningly, "Does she ever talk about that time?"

Zacllen shook his head, his dignified bone a rare sight even among Minbari. It was somehow made of pure marble. How this ever came to pass no one knew. But, he was popular among the ladies. And was that not what all strive for?

"I have only heard the rumors," he said, "But, I must say, you and Deathwalker. While I am somewhat disappointed that you are in league with Starkiller, who am I to say otherwise? I probably would have done the same myself."

Lennier did not say anything. A darkness was falling. It had already infiltrated the ranks of the Minbari society. If they, who were chosen could be deceived, who had any hope of survival?

* * *

><p>Thus the year 2258 came to a close. As the Narns and Centauri battled in a slow war for supremacy, Earth gave itself over to the whims of a race that they knew nothing about. The Minbari's war drums were pounding. Sinoval's death was nothing to them; a mere smudge in the white sheet of their plans. But, as things began to unravel throughout the galaxy, a new hope was being born. They knew not what that hope was, but where the darkness had sway, the light could not be extinguished. And the prophecies of a Minbari not born of Minbar were being fulfilled, each and all of them.<p> 


	34. Behind the Scenes

**Behind the Scenes**

Shortly after completing _In the Beginning_, it was requisite to start work on the second part of the Alternative Universe. I settled on the timeframe of the original show, 2258-2262 or there abouts. These would be essential to show just how much humanity had been affected by the events ten years before.

The story starts off where we find out that the remnants of humanity are now a protectorate of the Centauri Republic. And as such, as the Narns are planning their war against the Centauri, plan to fight against the humans as well. When the story started, the name of the remnants of humanity was called the Earth Remnant. However, as time went by, considering the fact that Earth was not part of the remnant, it became much easier to say Human Remnant. Partly due to be clerically correct and also it was much easier for me to call it _Human Remnant_ than _Earth Remnant_.

It also didn't help that it was severally months before I got back to the story, so some of the story points ended up changing slightly because of it. Most noticeably the name of humanity.

Bester and Garibaldi working together was something I found intriguing. What if Bester _did_ have some sway over Garibaldi that wasn't mind alterations? And, while at it, why not make it that he saved both Garibaldi and Lisa Hampton? So, I ended up marrying off Garibaldi and Lisa, despite my abject disdain of that character. Lisa was a woman who really was demanding and didn't care about anything that didn't automatically conform to her. Like take her stance on Garibaldi and _Babylon 5_. Instead of going, alright, sure, you go ahead. No, I don't want to go. But, we can still stay in touch. No, she always made it an ultimatum. Me or Babylon 5. Me or this. Me or that. Hate that woman.

In my mind, only three people could have inherited the Great Machine. Jinxo, because of his good heart. Aldous Gajic, because he was a true seeker, seeking for something lost. And I bet if anything could find the Holy Grail, it would be the Machine. And Draal. Alright, it wasn't _that_ much of AU putting him in there. But, what better way of AUing it than having Jinxo, Aldous and Bester's assistant Kelsey all get killed fighting over control of the Machine? Especially when two actually did die? One against Jason Ironheart and the other against Duex on B5?

Sheridan allying with the Shadows. Ok, I'll admit. I wouldn't have thought of it if it hadn't been _A Dark, Distorted Mirror_. But, in the end, how better than to make him choose the Shadows for aid? It allowed for Lennier's throwing his lot in with Sheridan. Also, needed to kill off Keffler some way. Might as well be the Minbari who did it.

G'Kar as WarMaster was never a question in my mind. Considering his past with the military, I could see him rising to the ranks of the leading commander of all Narn forces. It allowed him in this universe his chance to strike at Emperor Turhan during a peace talk.

Ok. So here is a point of confusion. I state that when Malachi and Turhan are talking about opening peace talks, that Malachi is Prime Minister. However, when we see Londo, _he's _Prime Minister. With the Centauri Republic, if someone retires from public office, he retains his title. It's honorific. Ok, maybe not canonized _Babylon 5_, but in my mind it is. Malachi had retired in my story by this time. But, since he was on good relations with the Emperor, he could come and go as he pleased through the Royal Palace.

Yes, I did place Carn Mollari into the military. Almost forgot about him too until I started rewatching _B5_. And I was like, face palm, forgot about him! So, added him as commanding officer of the ship Londo was on. Convenient.

_Babylon 5_ was built by the Humans backed by Centauri money. As was all the _Babylon_ stations. Commander Sinclair was promoted upon his taking command of Babylon 5 to Captain. Seeing as he was also one of the few experienced officers left. Sure, that's some massive monetary investments of the Centauri. Turhan in my mind would have wanted to keep the humans safe, since they are a protectorate. But, as is stated in _The Coming of Shadows_, the Centauri could only have backed so many stations before having to cut off funding.

Note however, there already _is_ a _Babylon 4_ in the area. So yes, there are _two Babylon 4_ stations in the area. And no, the one Sinclair was on was not the one from _In the Beginning_. But yes, he has been to both.

Walker Smith's demise after the Mutai challenge served getting Garibaldi on Bester's side. Otherwise, I probably would have had a back story about him getting killed protecting Michael's back during the early part of the rebuilding.

Now, three months of torture and not breaking is really stretching believability. Even for Sheridan. But, That time was crucial, if Lennier was ever to side with Sheridan. Lennier would have defected overnight. Not in a long shot.

Now, as for the relationship between Deathwalker and Sinoval. Deathwalker never really cared for Sinoval. She was using him to eventually take over the Minbari by wiping out the Grey Council. But, Sinoval on the other hand did really care for Deathwalker, despite his protestations. But, in the end, they were using each other to try to take out the Grey Council. But, while I never actually got around to mentioning it, Sinoval and Deathwalker were actually trying to creature a hybrid between Dilgar and Minbari by their consummation of their relationship. Thank Valen that Kalain interfered then! Or not.

Susan Ivanova as the military governor of the Vega 7 Colony, named only Vega Colony by the show, was a logical choice for me. First and less importantly for me was the fact that she actually ran Babylon 5 pretty well. Her diplomacy was rough hewn but doable. Main reason though was is I forgot that Marcus came from Arisia III Colony. Otherwise, they would have ended up on Arisia III and not Vega 7. Oops.

Susan Luchenko's being President and Clark Vice President was a no brainer. Why not put the successor as incumbent President and why not have the predecessor as the Vice? That and Marie Crane got stolen by _ADDM_ to be Clark's predecessor. Dang it!

Now, Vir and Mayan are _not _in a romantic relationship. They're merely in a very good friendship. I needed a good Minbari to be part of the Conspiracy of Light which seems really to be made up of only three people. Vir, Mayan and Gideon. I really thought Matthew Gideon could make a good techno-mage. Besides working with one, he had the same temperament in my mind. So, why not have Gideon be the one to push the head of his Conspiracy of Light along with a poet reading sonnets as they do so?

The Shadows only have one agenda. Spread chaos. The only way I could see for that to happen was them to, as one of the reviewers adequately said, "The Shadows playing both sides...". They want only the strong to survive.

And why would the Grey Council be wanting to go to war? The Grey Council does not want to war. However, with Delenn's capture, they are unable to stand against the mounting pressures from their people to finish the job. Babylon 5 I think was essential in the original universe to let the two races interact. The only interaction aliens get on my B5 is the same as the bio-weapon from Icarus gets. Brigged and spaced and stolen technologies used for testing.

And Colonel Ari Ben Zayne as commander of B5? I love the idea and he was already mentally unstable in the show. The destruction of Earth unhinged him even more. And yes, Takaishima has romantic interests in her captain. Even if he doesn't notice it.

Delenn's capture will be a turning point. It will help "The One" become united. How it will though, I haven't yet figured that out yet.

Again, thank you all who have read _Signs and Portents_ and I hope you got as much joy out of reading as I did writing it.


End file.
